The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (Private Dealings GOT Edition)
by VampAngel79
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen is a Private Investigator. Jon Snow is, well, a different Jon Snow. You'll need to read to find out the rest. AH/AU. ("Who would you rather be? The pretty princess who waits for her knight in shining armor to save her; or the warrior woman who goes to slay the dragon?" If your answer is the latter, you're in the right place.)
1. Chapter 1 - I'm Batman

**CHAPTER 1 - I'M BATMAN**

**_"_****_I thought it was time for a tough, smart, likable female private investigator, and that's how VI came to life." ― Sara Paretsky_**

**_"_****_I am an investigator by inclination. I feel a great thirst for knowledge." ― Immanuel Kant_**

**_"_****_I am a private detective. I am paid to be inquisitive and presumptuous." ― Douglas Adam_**

**_"Your problem is, you underestimate me because I'm a woman." ― Kate Daniels, by Ilona Andrews_**

**_"_****_Being A Warrior Woman:_**

**_Do I not seem soft and gentle,  
My skin smooth, my hair undone_**

**_But in my softness, my blood burns_**

**_Rage I will on the battle-field,  
You will know and remember my cry,_**

**_A woman can be fierce,_**

**_A woman is like a sleeping dragon,  
Caution is required when you approach,_**

**_For if it wakes, it will fly, free_**

**_Streaming fire across the field,  
Burning all in wrathful flames,_**

**_I pick up my sword,_**

**_And hold it high_**

**_I have no fear,  
To Valhalla_**

**_I ride."_**

**_― _****_By Unknown._**

There was nothing better than starting your week working at a Strip Club. Sarcasm aside, I should clarify that I wasn't one of the dancers. I was there to meet my client. I'm a private detective, a PI, a Private Dick – although that last one hardly applies since I'm female. The truth was that the only difference between us was their lack of clothes and my outfit. After all, I was told I was pretty enough and my body was very fit. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I have a very hard won sense of self-worth and I'm big on honesty.

So, there I was sitting at a back table at this Ode to Patriarchy watching the strippers gyrating on stage. I have to say that I was appreciating the show. Not because I was attracted to women, but the sheer physical strength and skill these girls showed was damn impressive. I had taken dance classes from my early childhood through my teenage years and I didn't think I'd be able to put on such a great show using a dance pole to save my life. I was never the best dancer, but I wasn't horrible either. And even now that I kept myself fit with jiu-jitsu classes, I'd still probably make an ass out of myself on that stage. Not that I wanted to try, well at least not in front of an audience, especially one of drooling Neanderthals. But, I could take some pole dance classes, maybe. I could even ask my client if she'd teach me. Nah, never a great idea to mixed business with pleasure.

It's peculiar being the lone woman patron inside a Gentlemen's Club. It's kind of like being a biologist observing primates in their natural habitat. It was mid-morning, but there was already half a dozen patrons there. Most of them glanced my way when I came in, but quickly lost any interest. Not surprising since I was pretty covered up in my business suit, and they had a better feast for their eyes up front where the ladies were wearing what could only be generously called tiny bikinis while putting Beyoncé to shame. This establishment didn't allow full nudity on stage, even the tops stayed on. It was classy like that. Now, what happened in the private rooms in the back was something I could very well imagine, but didn't like dwelling on it. Not my business anyway and from what I'd been told it was all consensual.

Normally, I'd have my client meeting me at my office. However, I had some pretty good news for her that I decided couldn't wait. She wasn't on stage, so I had asked my waitress for a beer and to please check to see if Ebony could come talk to me at my table. I tipped her heavily, for two reasons. One she dealt with assholes all day, so she was due, and I wanted some discretion, or at least what could pass for discretion here. Ebony's issues and my work for her didn't affect her job, but these places tended to be a world unto itself and gossip abounded.

Not five minutes later, Ebony came sauntering towards me from the backstage area. Her given name wasn't Ebony, of course. That was her stage name and the only one she advised me to use here. It fit her, which I'm guessing is why she chose it. She was an extremely beautiful woman, approaching forty, but didn't look it. She had coffee colored skin, impressive dreadlocks, a body any dancer would kill for and she was over six feet tall. She made quite an impression. Many of the patrons decided that watching her, even covered with a silk robe, was more entrancing than the semi naked girls on stage.

"Daenerys? Whatcha you doing here, girl?"

"Hi, Ebony. Please, sit down, if you can. I have some good news."

I smiled at her and she gave a dazzling smiled back. I knew how important what we had been working towards was for her. She looked around, nodded to the bouncer and sat down across from me. The waitress hurried back. I ordered another beer just to be polite, and told Ebony to order whatever she wanted. She opted for a Coke, because she said she never drank while working and she'd be back on the stage in about 15 minutes.

"So, did you get it?"

"I did. I caught them yesterday afternoon at the park. I took all the photos and video you'll ever need to help prove your case. I already sent them to Missandei. She's organizing all the evidence and she'll be taking it to the DA's office later today."

Ebony sucked in a breath. She shuddered once, lowered her head and when she looked up again there were silent tears falling from her eyes. I passed her a napkin and squeezed her hand.

"I can't ever thank you enough, Daenerys."

"Don't be silly, I was glad to help. And you did hire me. I was just doing my job."

"I tried another PI before I went to you. When he found out what I did for a living, he refused to take my case. You have treated me with respect and kindness before and after you learned of my job."

"Ebony, you know much better than I, I'm betting, that the world is full of judgmental assholes. I'm not one. I don't have any right to judge you or anyone else. Glass houses, right?"

"You helped me above and beyond what I was paying you for. You introduced me to Missandei, among other things."

"Well, your situation is very serious. Your 11 year-old son is being physically and verbally abused by his own father. I'd never be able to sleep at night if I didn't do all I could to save him. You did a good part of the work yourself. You took pictures of the injuries, you saved the abusive voice messages, and you had it all before I ever got involved. I just managed to catch him in the act and take photos and video. The video will have the most impact with a jury, but everything else you collected will prove it wasn't just a one-time thing. And I introduced you to Missandei, because she has the necessary contacts to help us, plus she's an excellent criminal lawyer and knows exactly what will be needed to put him in jail and to get him away permanently from both of you. I did exactly what you paid me to do. But, it's not over yet, Ebony. I want to be clear about that. It'll now be in the hands of the Justice System. You'll need patience. It won't be easy. But, don't worry. I'll help you in any capacity you need me. I'll testify too. Gladly. You're now in the very capable hands of Missanndei. She's doing this pro bono for you, so you won't have to pay her anything. And feel free to call me whenever you want, ok?"

"I still think I owe you, Daenerys. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Oh hell, why not?

"Can you teach me how to work the pole? Privately, I mean?"

And of course I blushed. She looked shocked for a moment and then laughed.

"Sure, hon. You want to learn it to please your man?"

"Pfff. First, I don't have a man. Plus, I'm not exactly the type to bend myself backwards to please anybody, much less a man. I want to learn it for me. It looks fun, I like dancing and it seems like a very demanding exercise. I like to keep in shape."

"You go, girl. Do it for yourself. Men, they're much more work than they're worth."

"Preach it, sister." I said while I lifted up my hand and we high-fived. A long time honored tradition we the females of the species have of bonding by bitching about males. They all deserved it, I had to add.

"I have to go. I'm next onstage. I'll call Missandei when I'm done here and I'll see when she wants me to stop by her office. That reminds me, I'll stop by your office tomorrow to settle my bill, ok? I have the day off."

"Sure. You take care of yourself and little Tyson. And, please don't contact your ex. Missandei will give you the security lecture and safety tips for when he finds out what's happening. Let's keep him in the dark for as long as we can, ok?"

"Yes. I'm happy right now, but I know the fear will come. I'll deal with it, but I'm going to enjoy this news for as long as I can. See you tomorrow, Daenerys. And thanks again. Oh, do you wanna stay to watch my set? Maybe you'll learn something…" She smirked, gave me a little wave and sashayed away.

I didn't actually have anything that pressing to do, so why not watch Ebony dance away. I turned to call my waitress once again and found her standing pretty much behind my chair. I guess my big tip made her be more solicitous. I decided I was done with beer and ordered a Coke to watch my client shake her assets on the stage for the titillation of the masses.

Now what did that say about me?

I didn't have to wait long for Ebony to make her entrance. And about twenty seconds after she had made her onstage appearance I was extremely glad I had stayed to watch. That woman could dance. She was surprisingly classy and the pole became an extension of her. She was an artist at what she did. All eyes were on her and plenty of money was being thrown on the stage. I had no ambitions about becoming a stripper, but I'd definitely accept pole dance classes from Ebony. I'd be a fool not to. It was such great exercise and seemed like a lot of fun. I think I'd really enjoy doing it but only in private. Not something I'd want an audience for. I wasn't an exhibitionist and it wasn't going to help me with my business reputation anyway. I didn't even have a man to show off for, although I don't think I would even if I had a guy. Women were already objectified enough as it was, I wouldn't want a boyfriend doing it to me too.

I was thoroughly enjoying the show, but at least I wasn't objectifying the woman performing. I was honestly appreciating her athleticism and pizazz. When I realized she was winding down and bending to collect the cash onstage, while letting the guys put bills in her bikini straps, I fished a twenty out of my wallet and made my way to the front to give her her due. I slipped the cash in the string, winked at her and told her how much I enjoyed it. I was quick about it because she was working and I was now more than ready to leave and get back to my office.

I quickly turned back on my way out, caught her eye and gave her a wave. When I turned back to continue on my way to the outer door trouble found me. Thankfully, I'm very well-trained in a variety of things. Some of those skills were what saved me. I'm very observant, it's something that's part of my personality, but also something I've trained in. I can also read people extremely well. No, I can't read their minds, although some people find that skill eerie enough. I'm very adept at reading body language and micro-expressions. It's useful when you're a Private Investigator, a necessity really.

The moment I faced the door I noticed a huge guy pushing his way through, emanating rage. I realized it was Ebony's ex-husband, the abuser, and he was here because he had somehow found out his career as his son abuser was about to end and wanted his last say. Now, he was here to either beat Ebony or me up. This brought another realization, that someone here had listened in on my conversation with Ebony and had called him. I was betting it was that waitress. She was the only one close enough to overhear it. I have to say I now regretted giving her that tip. That bitch.

Now, if Tyson Sr. was here thinking that he could intimidate Ebony or me, he was in for a rude awakening. He was about to find out a couple of other skills I had. I kept walking towards him and getting away from the tables. He had been looking over my head towards the stage, watching Ebony I was guessing. He finally noticed me, and came towards me with purpose and exhaling violence. But, his big mistake was what he yelled to me.

"Hey, Bitch!"

There are few things I disliked as much as being referred to as 'Hey' and being called a bitch. This might actually be quite fun for a few minutes. I stopped a few feet away and he kept coming.

"No need to shout, asshole. I'm right here."

He actually sputtered. I don't think he was used to a woman, or anyone really, not cowering when met with him and his rage. He was a huge guy. Buff and about 6 feet 3. He broadcasted badass mean dude for miles around him. I was not impressed. So, like most men of his ilk instead of using his words, he went to use his hands on me. His mistake.

I confess I don't make a formidable first impression. I'm not the least bit imposing physically. I'm short, blonde and blue-eyed. I'm muscular, but in the lean way you get from dance and martial arts. I'm not bulky, so when wearing a business suit I look like a very easy target. It was time Tyson Sr. learned that not everything is as it seems. It was a lesson most people with brains learned early on in life, but he didn't seem to have much of a brain. He was a bully. And as a bully he saw me as an easy mark. His stupidity was my pleasure. It really was.

So, when he went to put his hands around my throat, I spread my legs a little apart, bent my knees, dropped and twisted my upper body down to the right of him, completely dodging his grabby hands. His shock worked in my favor, because even though I was trained, he was much bigger than me and although you can win a fight against a much bigger opponent, it's harder, especially if he's also trained. I had no idea if he was but I was pretty sure he wasn't, because guys like him always counted on their size and attitude, so they rarely thought about getting properly trained in any martial arts. Again his loss was my gain.

As I bent and twisted to escape his hands, I also stepped to his right, grabbed his arm with both hands, kept going past him and twisted his arm around his back, painfully putting pressure on his wrist and shoulder joint. The whole thing took five seconds. He was so shocked that it took him another few seconds to start screaming profanities at me and to try to get free, but the more he moved, the more his arm hurt. I decided to end things quickly, before he thought of some other way to hurt me. I kick his back none too gently to make him drop to his knees, which he did, otherwise his arm would have come out of its shoulder socket. Still not satisfied, because he was getting more enraged by the second, I used my foot again to make him lie flat on his stomach on the floor. I kept his arm in my hands and used the same foot to step on his back. The problem was he wasn't going to stay down for long. His pride would not let him. I'd have to pop his arm off and I wasn't really willing to do that unless I had no other choice. Which I did.

I freed one of my hands that were holding his arm painfully to keep him immobile and pulled my gun out of my shoulder holster. It was 9mm Glock Pistol Model G17 and I loved it dearly. I squatted next to his face and showed him the gun. Good thing too, because I had just freed him from the arm hold and he was trying to get up. He froze. I told him to stay exactly where he was with his hands behind his back and that if he behaved like a good boy I wouldn't shoot him. I also whispered that if he ever put his hands on his son or Ebony again I'd definitely shoot him with pleasure and that he'd never see it coming because I'd do it with a long distance rifle one day when he was walking the streets and least expected it. I looked him right in the eye when I said that. I'm pretty sure he believed me. The truth was I wouldn't. I'm not a vigilante. But, I had a great poker face and I loved guns. I did a lot of competitive shooting when I was young. I'm an extremely good shot and I could shoot pretty much any gun in existence well, so it was true enough that I could pick him off the street anytime and that showed in my eyes.

So, that's where I found myself at lunch time on a Monday. In a Strip Club, with a child abuser on the floor under my foot with my gun trained on the back of his head.

I do hate bullies.

I hadn't realized that while I was subduing the maniac I had also provided quite a show for the whole club. Patrons, strippers, waitresses and even the bouncer were all gawking at me. Most had their mouths opened. The shock would wear off soon and the people were going to start to flee the scene, so I decided to take charge. Since, I had the gun I was pretty sure they would listen.

I turned to the bouncer.

"You! Dial 911 now! Tell the Police to come because the ex-husband of one of your employees has just tried to attack her and her private investigator. Also, do you by any chance have a pair of handcuffs?"

He shook his head and ran towards the phone.

"Everyone else! Do not leave, do not attempt to leave, we'll all wait for the police. We are all witnesses here."

"Ebony? Where's Ebony?"

Right then Ebony emerged from the depths of the club with a gaggle of other women, which I assumed were all the strippers that were working that day. She reached me, surrounded by her girlfriends who seemed to be acting like her protectors and moral support. This was fine, great even, but funny how they only showed up after I had dealt with the problem. But, I wasn't being fair, I was trained and had a certain skill set that was right for this situation, they didn't. I was just getting cranky. I had been having a good time until the asshole showed up.

Ebony looked down at her ex then gaped at me, and when he saw her he started to open his mouth, but after I stepped more forcefully on his back and focused the gun on the back of his head, again more firmly, he finally decided that silence was the better part of valor. Bullies, really.

Wordless, Ebony passed me fuzzy red handcuffs; I looked at them then back at her.

"Daenerys, they work and are strong just like police ones. They're just cuter and usually used for more pleasurable purposes. Didn't you ask Shay, the bouncer, for some?"

"I did. Thanks. Just a sec."

I got down and put the cuffs onto Tyson Sr. Better safe, than sorry.

"Ebony, we need to talk. That waitress called him here after she overheard our conversation earlier. I don't know why she did it, but you need to find out. She might be in love with him, he might be paying her to keep tabs on you and Tyson Jr., and she might just hate you. I don't know. But, she's dangerous to you and yours."

At this the others strippers and Ebony looked outraged and the group, minus Ebony who stayed by my side, went to close in on said waitress. I felt no pity. What she did was despicable and the women weren't beating on her, but they were going to get to the bottom of it and they would exact their revenge for her lack of loyalty to one of their own. Nothing gruesome I was sure; she'd probably have an impossible time getting any job at another strip club ever again. And if they thought she deserved a black eye for her crimes, I could live with that. Tyson Sr. could have killed me or at least hurt me pretty badly; he could have done the same to Ebony and to his son. I have no issue with women fighting women, I think that's mighty feminist of me. Now, a man beating up a woman is unforgivable. Double standard some might say, but at least I had some standards.

"Ebony, I need to call Missandei now. Can you keep an eye on him while I talk to her? Don't worry, I'll keep my foot on his back and the gun pointed, but I don't want him getting any ideas if I get distracted. Just yell if he moves, ok?"

"Sure, Daenerys."

"Thanks."

The police would be here in minutes, so I needed to make it fast. I called Missandei, and gave her a quick run-down of what had just happened. She listened intently and said she'd be on her way and she was bringing the evidence against him that she was planning to take to the DA after lunch. It would help the police see the truth about him. I was a little apprehensive because he hadn't actually hurt anyone. I didn't have a scratch on me. I had witnesses but it had all happened so fast. And the moment I pulled the gun, I escalated the situation. If he wasn't a threat anymore, why did I feel the need to point the gun? Because I knew he was still a threat, that's why I pulled it, I avoided it at almost any cost. However, I knew how police thought and worked. I was also a lawyer, although I hadn't practiced in ten years, but I was already preparing how to tell the whole truth the best possible away. I didn't want attention, much less trouble with the police. It's not good for business. People tend to take the Private part of Private Investigation pretty seriously. I did too.

And so it was that when the police finally arrived, they found me in the exact position I had been for quite some minutes now. I was standing over Tyson Sr., who was lying on his stomach on the floor, his hands behind his back in red fuzzy handcuffs, my foot on the middle of his back and my Glock pointed at the back of his head. The only thing that had changed was that I was now in the middle of a circle of chairs, each occupied by a stripper. They had formed a ring around me and my prey and seemed to be having the time of their lives. Most now wanted to take self-defense classes and/or jiu-jitsu. They believed I was a superhero in disguise, which I thought was hilarious and quite pleasing since I was a huge nerd. I cracked them up when Candy first said something along those lines and I replied in a throaty voice: "I'm Batman".

Damn it all to hell, but I refused to say Batgirl. One, I'm not a girl. I'm 33 years-old. Secondly, it's a little demeaning how they always use girl: Batgirl and Supergirl; for example. Where were Batwoman and Superwoman? At least, there's Wonder Woman. And Daenerys. Daenerys Targaryen.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Warrior

**CHAPTER 2 – THE WARRIOR**

**"****Fate whispers**

**to the warrior:**

**'****You cannot withstand the storm.'**

**And the warrior**

**whispers back:**

**'****I Am The Storm'."**

**\- By Unknown**

**"****Sometimes it's not what you say. Valkyrie, it's just the fact that you're saying it."**

**― ****Derek Landy**

**"****That which is striking and beautiful is not always good, but that which is good is always beautiful."**

**― ****Ninon de L'Enclos**

I should have known after all the events of today that this week was going to be a weird one. And I wasn't wrong.

Thankfully, everything worked out fine in the end. The Strip Club had cameras inside which showed the police exactly what I had told them. Tyson Sr. had tried to strangle me and I had defended myself. I was further helped by the fact that my finger had never been on the trigger of my gun. That's one of the rules of dealing with guns: don't put your finger on the trigger unless you're willing to shoot. I wasn't, so that was a great point in my favor. I also had witnesses, who had been quite vocal in my defense. The fact that Tyson Sr. had a history of violence, a criminal record and was a 6 feet 3 man and I was an upstanding member of the community and a 5 feet 6 tall woman didn't hurt. But, my ace in the hole was Missandei. She was a force of nature and an extremely good lawyer. She dealt with the police and gave them copies of our files about the abuse of his son. So, although I had to spend a couple of hours there while we all gave our statements and contact information, which I made sure Missandei and I stayed until all the strippers had been interviewed, and Tyson Sr. had been carted off to jail, in the end I was sent home without even a stern talking too. Not by the police anyway. Missandei was a different story.

By the time we got out of there it was mid-afternoon and Missandei dragged me to a late lunch. She was worried about me, which was an old argument. But, I still appreciated that she cared about me. She was my best friend. Our main issue was that she, like most other people I knew, couldn't understand why I had left a promising career as a lawyer to become a private investigator. I had opened up my own shop a few years back. It was small and I dealt mostly with insurance fraud and cheating spouses. It paid the bills, I enjoyed it, but it wasn't exactly my dream yet. I wanted it to grow. I wanted to work hard cases, more important cases. I wanted to help people. My friends tried to be understanding, but all my girlfriends had been married for years now and had at least two kids each. They all had conventional careers. They had trouble comprehending the fact that I wasn't interested in marriage in the least and that I didn't want to have kids. Besides being a personal choice, it irked me that still in this day and age your value as a woman was measured by your ability to catch a man and to pop some kids out. I think being a mother is the hardest job in the world and I had nothing but respect for the women who make the choice to have kids, they're braver than me.

I think one of the most important things in life is to be self-aware. I knew I wasn't a conventional type of girl. I would never be satisfied by a conventional job and family. So, why let society pressure me into an unhappy life when I was more than capable of choosing my own path. I had had this conversation hundreds of times with Missandei, but today she decided on a different approach. Instead of the whole spiel about how I should settle down with a nice guy, have kids and go work as a lawyer at her firm, she seized upon the danger I had put myself in at the Strip Club. I tried to remind her that Tyson Sr. had gotten his ass kicked by me and I hadn't even broken a nail. She waved me off. She was worried about the fact that I should have had back up. That I shouldn't always work alone. That I should have a partner or at least get another assistant.

She brought up good points. Not so much about my safety, that I wasn't worried about. I worked hard enough at the shooting range and at the dojo to feel secure, but I was in need of yet another assistant. My vision for my business always included me hiring a young woman out of school as an assistant and training her for a few years to became a full-fledged private investigator and eventually a partner in the business, or at least an associate. The problem was that they never lasted. None of them had shown a real interest in becoming a PI and even worse, when a more glamorous assisting job appeared they handed in their notices and went on to bigger and better things. I had been working solo as a PI and as my own secretary/assistant for the last four months. I could have gotten a new temporary girl, but I was getting sick of the revolving door. I wanted someone to stay. Someone who would enjoy the work. Someone who would consider an investment in a career and not just a way to make a buck until something better came along.

Missandei and I talked about that and then she surprised me.

"That's what I'm talking about, Daenerys. If this is what you want to do with your life, you need some help. I'd feel much better if you hired someone. That way, at least you'd have a person who'd always know where you were and I think training them to help you grow the business it's a great idea. You remember Sansa, right?"

That gave me pause. I had never actually met Sansa Stark, but she was Missandei's interior decorator. She was apparently fabulous and the best in her business. What did Sansa have to do with what we were talking about?

"Sure, the infamous Sansa Stark. Don't tell me, she decided to quit being an interior decorator and it's dying to get into the PI business?"

"You know, I appreciate your sarcasm a lot more when it's not directed at me. You're such a smart ass. No, Sansa loves what she does, but we were talking earlier today, before your drama, and she mentioned that her cousin who also grew up here but has spent the last decade abroad is back in town and is very interested in becoming a PI. She asked me to talk to you about it. She knows you're my best friend and a PI. So, what do you think?"

Well, that was a pleasant surprise. I needed more information about this girl and if she was cousins with Sansa, it might not work. Sansa was a notorious socialite and I couldn't picture a socialite wanting to be a PI, especially if she had to start from the bottom up. Assistant work isn't glamorous. It's basically being a secretary, who I sometimes used to help me with some cases.

"I think I need more information. It sounds great and exactly like what I've been wanting. However, why would Sansa's friend want to be a PI? Is she as fabulous as you say Sansa is? And since Sansa is older than us, why would a near forty year old want to be my assistant? Does she have any experience here or abroad as a PI?"

"I haven't met him, Daenerys. So, I can't answer your questions. That's something you'll need to ask him if you agree to meet him. You can interview him properly or just meet him at your office and get some first impressions. If you don't like him, no harm, no foul."

"HIM? It's a guy? Oh, come on! Missandei, are you high? Do you really think a guy will want to be my assistant, which basically means my secretary? Especially a guy who's older than me? Because men usually do so well taking orders from younger and more powerful women than them. I do not have the time or inclination to allow power struggles at the office."

"I see your point, Daenerys. But, what do you have to lose by meeting him? He might surprise you. Not every man is that misogynistic."

"Not the millennials, but guys of our generation and older generally are."

"I don't know his age. Sansa's 38 years old. He might be younger than her; he might even be a millennial."

"God forbid!" I said mostly joking and crossed myself. Missandei laughed at my antics

"So, what do I tell Sansa?"

"Give her my contact information. Tell her to pass it along to him, that way he can call me and schedule a time to come to the office so we can meet and talk. I'm not promising anything, but I'll meet him."

"Ok. Let me just text her right now, so I don't forget. Your adventure today put me behind schedule. I still need to go by the DA's Office to hand the file over on Tyson Sr. and I have to get back to my office too before going home."

"I'm sorry to have disrupted your day, sweetie. But, it was for a good cause."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for and indeed it was, I was glad to help."

Missandei focused on her phone and was typing away. I was guessing she was talking to Sansa. I sipped my wine and waited, I knew Missandei would be fast about it. I was right.

"Daenerys, are you free tomorrow at ten am?"

"Yeah. I mean I don't have any clients on the books until Friday and the last active case was Ebony's, which is now in your capable hands."

"Sansa says he'll meet you at your office tomorrow at ten."

Funny how Sansa was so invested in him getting this job and weird how she was the one who organized the meeting. I didn't think I liked what it said about him that he couldn't even call me directly. Maybe I was overthinking it and Sansa was just a very overzealous relation. But, maybe not.

"Fine. What's his name?"

"Jon. Jon Snow."

Well, Mr. Snow better watch out for me. I couldn't say I was completely comfortable with what I just agreed to do, but as Missandei had said, I just had to meet him and if I didn't like him that would be it. Seemed simple enough, though of course things never are.

**Tuesday Morning:**

I had woken today with a very weird feeling. It wasn't exactly foreboding, but it wasn't warm and fuzzy either. It was kind of electric. It told me something of note would happen today. If it was going to be good or bad, I had no idea. But, it left me a little bit on edge.

I couldn't afford to be off my game. I was going to meet Mr. Jon Snow in about 15 minutes. The mysterious guy who was interested in becoming a PI and for some reason wanted to meet and maybe work for me. If what Sansa said was actually true then I had no reason to doubt it.

It was going to be tricky being the one in a position of power over him. In my experience, men didn't deal well with women as their bosses. Especially if said woman was younger than them, more experienced in the area and pretty. I was all three. Unless, he had more experience than I was led to believe. If so, that would be even more difficult. I wasn't a very patient woman, so if he annoyed me I'd get rid of him faster than you could say good riddance.

I had dressed in my best black power suit, a crispy white shirt, high heels and I put my hair into its usual braids. I applied my usual make-up, not much, but just enough. I looked professional. I thought I looked like a CIA Agent, if you ignored the braids, but it cracked me up nonetheless. But, image is a type of power and I was willing to use every tool at my disposal.

I was sitting at my desk, typing some notes about yesterday into Ebony's file when I heard a knock on the outer door. I had left the door to my office opened. Since I didn't have an assistant to sit at the front desk, I needed to answer my own door and for that it was necessary to hear when people knocked. I really required an assistant.

So, I saved the file, closed the laptop, got up and smoothed my clothes to remove any wrinkles. I stopped by the door to my inner bathroom and checked my reflection in the mirror. My hair and make-up looked fine, so I was as ready as I was going to be. Or so I thought, until I opened the door.

There stood the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was drop dead gorgeous. 6 feet tall, with long brown hair, half tied in a bun behind his head, grey-eyes, with a short dark beard, incredibly fit, corded with lean muscle and just plain striking and pretty in a very fierce way. I froze with my hand on the knob and the door half-opened. It wasn't just his good looks that stopped me in my tracks, it was his eyes. He had incredible eyes, deep grey and intense. His eyes looked haunted and years older than him. They were also weary, shadowed. Dark things lurked in their depths. He had seen much horror, that was clear. It was the eyes of someone who had gone through a great storm and came out at the other side changed and not quite whole, but not broken. It was the way he carried himself. He stood with his hands behind his back, relaxed but at attention at the same time and staring at me unflinchingly. He had wolfish eyes, dangerous and a bit feral. The eyes of a loner. I knew instantly that he could be extremely dangerous if provoked, that he was troubled and trying his hardest to hide it. He looked like a cross between a chivalrous musketeer and harsh medieval warrior. It was a strange and very compelling combination. All he was missing was some armour and a big long sword strapped to his side.

What saved me some embarrassment while I spent a couple of minutes making my assessment of his amazing hotness and complex eyes was the fact that he seemed to be transfixed with me as much as I was with him. I needed to move, say something, and do something. But, I was enthralled by his looks. The best I could describe was that he looked like The Medieval Warrior of Myth. And so, I couldn't resist. I opened the door fully with a flourish and said:

"Are you lost on your way to a battle, Warrior? A siege, perhaps?

I smirked.

His eyes widened in surprised and he gave a booming laugh that seemed to caress me. Wow.

"Since I'm not lost and I'm at your castle, wouldn't that make you my Queen?"

He had me there. And I really appreciated his sense of humor.

"Touché. Please, come in, Mr. Snow."

"Thank you, Ms. Targaryen."

A/N: So, how did you like their first meeting? You like my Jon so far? The rest of their meeting will continue in the next chapter. Please, please, leave some feedback. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3 - Winning The Genetic Lottery

**CHAPTER 3 – WINNING THE GENETIC LOTTERY**

**Pretty is something you're born with. But beautiful, that's an equal opportunity adjective.**

**― ****Ralph Waldo Emerson**

**People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within."**

**― ****Elisabeth Kübler-Ross**

**"So, the cross is always ready and waits for you everywhere. You cannot escape it no matter where you run, for wherever you go you are burdened with yourself. Wherever you go, there you are."**

**—****Thomas a Kempis, Imitation of Christ, ca. A.D. 1440.**

Jon entered my office and scanned it quickly but thoroughly. I wasn't offended; I did the same thing when I entered a place. I was betting that in the few seconds he looked around he saw everything there was to see. Every window, door, exit and the floor layout. That let me know a couple of things about him. One, he was more than he appeared to be, although his eyes had already told me that. The second thing was that he was almost surely ex-military. The latter wasn't only because of how he analyzed the place, but mostly the way he moved. He moved like a cat, gracefully, elegantly and ready to pounce in an instant, if needed. He appeared completely at easy and relaxed, but he wasn't fooling me. If a threat suddenly materialized, he would react immediately and with extreme violence. His body was a work of art, functional and built with the purpose to fight and kill. His clothing was what also gave him away. He was all in black: t-shirt, jeans and combat boots. They clung to his muscular frame. He looked delicious and dangerous.

I wasn't worried. I presented no threat to him and his behavior seemed more like it was the result of years of training that was so well ingrained that he'd probably never be able to completely shake it off.

I let him do his thing for a few seconds and then I spoke.

"Would you like something to drink, Mr. Snow? Coffee, tea, water?"

"Sure. If it's not too much trouble, I'll take a coffee, black, please."

"It's no trouble at all. Please, follow me."

I took him to my little kitchen alcove which was by the right off the front desk. I had already brewed some coffee right before he was scheduled to show up. I took the carafe, selected my favorite mug and because I just couldn't resist selected the Witcher mug for him, it was the closest I had to a medieval warrior. I served both mugs. I put four spoons of sugar into mine, which got me an amused look from him and served his black. I handed him his cup and picked mine up.

He looked at it, saw the Witcher logo, smirked, and looked back at me. I gave him my most innocent smile.

He shook his head and chuckled, but made no comment. And he drank it.

"Should we adjourn to my office, so we can talk more comfortably?"

"Sure. Please, lead the way."

I locked the outer door on my way to my office, for privacy and security. That earned me an approving glance from Jon.

I lead him inside my domain and gestured for him to sit in the chair in front of my desk. He sat and so did I.

"So, Mr. Snow, I have to say I'm curious why you're interested in the PI business and especially why you're interested in the position of my assistant. I'm hoping you can make me understand, before we discuss anything else."

"That's fair enough, although a rather private issue. I'll try to summarize for your benefit."

"I'd rather you elaborated. I can assure you I'll be more than capable of following the whole story, although I take no pleasure in violating your privacy; I still need to know your personal reasons. You don't own me your life story, but I find that people's private motivations are always the most relevant."

Jon regarded me for a beat and nodded.

"The short version is that I have spent the last decade traveling the word. I left when I was 28 years-old and haven't been back since. I'm now 38 years-old and I've decided to put down some roots here. I was tired of my nomadic life. Coming back here seemed like the obvious choice. I don't have any family left besides my cousin Sansa. She's being bugging me to come back for years, so when I was ready I did."

He wasn't telling me anything I already didn't know or hadn't guessed. That wouldn't do.

"Mr. Snow, you're not telling me anything I don't already know or had guessed. Sansa was the one that got you this meeting through my best friend, Missandei. She also mentioned you had been abroad for a decade. Let's try again. What did you do before you left to travel the world?"

"That's not important."

"I beg to differ. It's vitally important. You've been vague and somewhat evasive so far, that doesn't bode well for a future working relationship. You're under no obligation to tell me, so if you choose not to tell me, no harm no foul. We'll part ways amicably. It's your choice, of course."

Oh, he wasn't happy. He really didn't want to tell me. I didn't understand. If I had read him correctly he was ex-military and there was no shame in that. That's when I remembered his eyes when I opened the door. He was ashamed of something and he had been through some sort of hell. His time in the military hadn't been easy. He was looking straight into my eyes and the shadows I had seen is his eyes before were much more pronounced now. I didn't want to cause him pain, but if he wanted the job with me I had to know about his previous experiences, not in detail, but I still had a right to know. Problem was, he seemed reluctant. So, I decided to speed things along. Either he was going to leave after what I planned to say or he would leave anyway because I wasn't hiring him if he continued to behave so mysteriously.

"Okay, Mr. Snow. I can see you're not too keen to get into it. So, give me a chance to make an educated guess and if I'm right you'll tell me so, with no further details. And if I'm wrong, well I'm rarely wrong."

He looked doubtfully at me. He probably thought I was insane.

"You know me for less than ten minutes and you think you can tell me about my past?"

"Yes. Are you too chicken to find out?"

"No, I'm worried about your arrogance."

He did not say that! I glared at him.

"Let's see if you still think I'm arrogant in a minute. You ready?"

I just said it to mock him a little.

"Do your worst."

Damn, I was going to be more diplomatic about it before his attitude annoyed the hell out me. Not anymore though.

"You're ex-military. Special Ops almost surely. You saw horrible shit and probably did bad things as well. You've killed, but in the name of our Country. You did it for longer than most and in the end it wore you down. So, you quit and tried civilian life while traveling the world. You were trying to get away from your bloody past. However, it didn't work as you hoped. Sure, it was a distraction for a while and more comfortable than serving. But, the thing you were trying to escape from wasn't just a place out there. It was inside of you. And as the saying goes: Wherever you go, there you are."

I spread my hands to make my point and waited for his reaction. I might have judged this poorly and he could freak out on me. But, I had this feeling that Jon rarely lost control if he didn't want to and that he appreciated honesty. Since I was a very truthful person, it'd be nice if he got used to it quickly.

The silent stretched out. Jon was staring at my eyes like he wanted to x-ray my brain. Finally, he spoke.

"You're a very perceptive woman, Ms. Targaryen."

"How perceptive of you to notice, Mr. Snow."

He laughed, which was exactly what I was going for. The vibe in the room had certainly gotten lighter.

"And you aren't afraid of me?"

"No. Should I be? You're a soldier, not a butcher."

"Some might disagree with you on that."

"Wars aren't pretty, Mr. Snow. The fact that you seem to find so difficult to carry the weight of the things you've done, speaks well of your character. And I have a feeling that the only person who considers you a butcher is yourself. You're not sociopathic or psychopathic."

"How can you know?"

"Because the main characteristics of those afflictions are lack of guilt and empathy. If you felt neither you wouldn't have spent a decade wallowing."

"Wallowing?"

"Brooding, hiding, running way. Call it what you like. You get my point. And I'm not judging you, just stating the facts. I'm in no way diminishing what you went through. I can't even imagine and to be honest I don't want to. I respect your service and the scars you carry because of it. Your past has no bearing on my decision to hire you or not. I simply needed to know what type of work you did before and what skills you might possess. Did you go to college or did you join young?"

I was sure he had joined when he was eighteen and that he hadn't gone to college. Jon continued his heavy regard of me, but answered.

"I joined right out of high school and no, I didn't go to college. I do speak several languages though; and I'm self-thought in a variety of subjects. I didn't only brood during my travels, you know?"

I laughed. And his comment about his knowledge of foreign languages gave me another clue.

"Good to know. One more question, did you do intelligence work while you were in the military?"

"Among other things. How did you know?"

"Your comment about speaking other languages, although I have no doubt you added more to your list during your travels."

He inclined his head. I realized I had thrown Jon off his game, something I was sure didn't happen often. He hadn't been expecting me and my insight. He had been expecting my questions and was ready to evade and give as little as possible back. It wasn't working according to his plan. He was going to change tactics soon enough. He didn't give the impression of a man who liked to lose, quite the contrary. I let the silence stretch. People tend to speak to break uncomfortable silences. Jon probably wasn't one of them, but I was betting he was feeling somewhat vulnerable, something he wasn't used to, so he would be the one to speak first. I was right.

"You're not what I was expecting, Ms. Targaryen."

I bet.

"How so, Mr. Snow?"

"You're very perceptive, as I already told you. You're wise for your age and extremely bright. And…"

He seemed reluctant to continue. My curiosity was peaked.

"And…?" I made a go on gesture

He looked me dead in the eyes and continued.

"And you're breathtakingly beautiful."

And there it was. His attempt to turn the tables. He'd have to do better than that. But, of all the things I had imagined he could have said, that hadn't even entered my mind. It gave me pause. He said it so matter-of-factly. I could tell he was being completely honest and that he hadn't said it with any lust, desire or heat. It was said as a statement of fact. Like he simply had said: You're blonde. I couldn't deny it did things to me. I didn't think a man had ever said those words to me before. Especially not a man as gorgeous as Jon Snow.

Many thoughts and possible replies came to mind, but what came out of my mouth was:

"So are you."

His eyes widened and he looked utterly shocked, and strangely enough a little annoyed. But, I went on.

"Let's not play coy, Mr. Snow. You are a very handsome man and I'm not blind. Apparently, you find me attractive also. So, should we congratulate each other on randomly winning the genetic lottery, high five and have it done?

He gave another of his booming laughs that warmed me all over. Still, I kept going.

"However, I'm guessing your good looks aren't your best attribute are they? They aren't mine either."

At that he gave me a sharp look. And I once more gleaned something about him. Jon might be a man, but he had been objectified by his looks. His beauty had hindered him somehow in his life. He had to work harder to be taken seriously. I was also betting that women threw themselves at him, which I could very well understand, but I bet most weren't interested in knowing the real him since they would be too dazzled by the exterior. Don't get me wrong, I was sure he enjoyed being that handsome and probably took every advantage it afforded him. He had learned to work it to his benefit, something that came with age and experience. And with that realization, my estimation of him grew. After all, I knew all about being objectified. Sure, I knew I had had way worse than him, but he had had a taste of it, knew how it felt and he clearly didn't enjoy it. I respected that.

"Touché, Ms. Targaryenn. Touché."

A/N: Sooooo, what did you guys think of their interaction? I confess this chapter was hard to write. I'm still not sure I got the tone right. I'd appreciate some feedback, because I have two different ideas on how the rest of their interaction might go in the next chapter. I beg you, let me know your thoughts. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4 - An Understanding

**CHAPTER 4 – AN UNDERSTANDING**

**"****The highest compact we can make with our fellow is – Let there be truth between us two for evermore." – Ralph Waldo Emerson**

**"****Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." – Norman Cousins**

**"****I have a loyalty that runs in my bloodstream, when I lock into someone or something, you can't get me away from it because I commit that thoroughly. That's in friendship, that's a deal, that's a commitment. Don't give me paper – I can get the same lawyer who drew it up to break it. But if you shake my hand, that's for life." – Jerry Lewis**

"So, Mr. Snow, now that we got that out of the way can we continue on to more relevant topics?"

"By all means."

"Why do you want to become a PI, if that's indeed what you wish?"

"Can I be candid, Ms. Targaryen?"

"This'd go much better if you were."

"The truth is that there aren't that many career paths opened to me at my age and with my specific background. I have no wish to go back to the military or work in law enforcement. I'm also not built to work at a conventional business office. And since I don't have a college degree that point is moot anyway. Being a private investigator appeals to me. It's not exactly a conventional job and I believe my skill set would be an asset. I'd also like to help people, on my own terms, and not as a cog in a government machine. I'm done bumming around the world. I want to put down some roots and find a career that I can be proud of."

What Jon had said made sense. It was the most honest and direct answer he had given me so far, which I appreciated.

"I can see how that makes sense, but why not open your own PI firm? You have worked in intelligence, so you already have some skills necessary for the job."

"I could open my own shop, but why would I? I don't have any experience in this area yet. Yes, I worked intelligence, and although my knowledge will be useful, being a PI is quite different than gathering intelligence for our government. You usually work with a team and follow orders. A Private Investigator has a lot more autonomy. If I opened my own PI business I'd be inexperienced. I would have a hard time finding clients at first, which would not be an issue at an already established business. I take pride in any job I do and I want to be good at it. If I went at it alone it would take me a long time to be successful. However, and most importantly, I believe in learning a business from the ground up. Maybe it's still the military in me, but you start at the bottom and then climb the ranks."

"But why work for me? There are other PI Agencies, a few quite bigger than mine. I'm sure a lot of them would jump at the chance to hire you."

"Many reasons, actually. Most of these other agencies would probably use me as muscle. And I'm done being muscle for any organization. Also, as you so insightfully realized I'm not too keen on disclosing my past work in the military. Besides being private, most of the work I did is classified. Lastly, I did my homework. Your business might not be the biggest, but you have a solid reputation as someone who is fair, does good work and can be trusted. I respect that. Furthermore, you have an opening."

"You do realize that the opening I have is for the position of my assistant? Which in reality means a glorified secretary? I'm not sure that's what you're looking for."

"No. It isn't. Not in the long term, but I'd have to start somewhere. I was also given to understand that although you're looking for an assistant you want to hire someone to train to become a PI and help with your work load. Isn't that right?"

Missandei had been busy talking about me with Sansa, it seemed.

"Yes. That's right. But you'd still have to do the assistant work. Answer the phone, schedule meetings, serve refreshments, open the door, file, and so on. I can train you on what I know as a PI while you're my assistant, but you'll need to do both jobs and do them well. Do you think you can do that?"

"I think I'm more than equal to the task."

"We'll see about that. But before I agree to hire you, there're some other things we need to discuss."

"Agreed."

"You do realize that I'll be your boss, right? You'll have to obey my orders in this office and out in the field when we are working. You can't contradict me, argue with me or disagree with me in front of clients or sources. You can do all that in private. I'll welcome and encourage your input always. You can feel free to disagree with me and make suggestions, but not in public. We need to present a united front and you'd be my subordinate. You'll always have to defer to me. If you can't live with that, we have nothing more to discuss."

"I have absolutely no problem with that."

I gave Jon a measured look. He seemed like he was being truthful, but that was too important a point to let it go so easily. He noticed my scrutiny.

"One thing we learn quite well in the military, Ms. Targaryen, is following orders."

"And following MY orders won't be an issue for you?"

"Why would it be?"

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Because I'm a woman? Because I'm younger than you by five years? Because as you yourself said, I'm breathtakingly beautiful?

"So…? I have zero problems with anything you just mentioned. You're a woman? You don't say? I hadn't actually noticed. You're younger than me? I also hadn't figured that out. And you're beautiful. Well, I won't lie. That I had noticed."

He smiled and winked at me. Now he was just being a smart ass.

"Your attempt at levity is not assuaging my fears, Mr. Snow."

"Your question was condescending. But, fine. I'll answer it seriously. I have no issues with your gender. I respect women immensely. My best friend is a woman. You might be younger than me, but those five years you mentioned are also five years of experience in this business you have over me. And your beauty, as you so wisely said, is not the most interesting thing about you. I'm betting your competence is, among other things. So no, I won't have any problems following your lead if you treat me fairly and with respect, which I have no doubt you will."

Okay then. That was a good answer.

"Okay, Mr. Snow. Fair enough. Now, the bad news. The truth is I can't pay you what you're worth. The budget for my assistant is small. This agency isn't actually thriving. It's in its growing stages. I'm hoping with your addition we can grow the business to its full potential. But, until then your salary would be quite small, appropriate for the secretary of a small business and not for a real PI in training."

I wrote a number on piece of paper and passed it to him.

"Can you live with that for now? I can promise that as the business and your contribution to it grows, I'll raise your pay accordingly."

Jon barely looked at the number and nodded. That was weird. I kept staring at him, willing him to say something. He finally did.

"I can live with that."

No. That was too easy. That salary would not be enough to support him; it wasn't enough to support me.

"Are you sure, Mr. Snow? Because I can't promise when or if I'll be able to give you a raise anytime soon. I don't mean to pry, but I need to know why this salary didn't seem to faze you.

There was a pause. Jon looked away. He seemed embarrassed, why I couldn't guess. I waited. His reply was important to me.

"Money isn't everything, Ms. Targaryen. You're offering me a chance at a new career and are willing to teach me what you know. That in itself is already a form of payment. It's a kind of training not many people can provide."

"That's not all. Why were you embarrassed just now?

That earned me a sharp look from Jon. I unnerved him when I read him so well. Well, tough luck he'd have to get used to it. Plus, I was sure he was reading me as well. He hadn't showed me his hand yet, but I had no doubt he saw a lot more about me than what he was saying. With a heavy sigh, he answered.

"Because I'm going to sound like a privileged asshole. But, since nothing seems to escape your notice, I'll tell you the truth. I'm not concerned with the money, because I already have more money than I deserve or know what to do with. My family left me very well-off when they passed away and I've lived frugally for the most part. I have my own place, a car, and I can pay all my bills. If I'm careful and smart about it I could chose not to work at all and live in relatively comfort. Don't get me wrong, I want to earn money. I want a career I'm proud of and that rewards me financially also, but I want to build it. I don't plan on living off the generosity of my inheritance for the rest of my life; however it affords me the luxury to choose this job at this salary until things evolve. I do hope that doesn't affect the way you view me."

I could see why he was embarrassed. He would sound like a privileged asshole to anyone who lived paycheck to paycheck or struggled to pay their bills. But, I couldn't throw stones, since I lived in a similar glass house. My family had also all passed away and being the only living relative, I inherited everything they had. I too was well-off. It was what had allowed me to walk away from a law career to become a PI. I had invested some of the money that was left to me to open this place. It wasn't something I discussed with many people. Money never was, especially when you're privileged and haven't actually done anything to deserve it. I hadn't earned that money, I only paid for it in grief. I'd give all of it back to have just one more day with my loved ones. I knew all about losing the people you loved and being left with their money, as if that was an adequate consolation prize. It wasn't natural to have loss so profound and gain financially from it. It was a sort of blood money. I was betting Jon felt the same way. He was so worried about how his confession would affect how I saw him. He was looking at me intently and warily waiting for my response. But, the only thing I was feeling towards him now was a sort of kinship.

"Actually, Mr. Snow, it does affect how I view you, but not in the way you're thinking. I appreciate your honesty, I know it wasn't easy for you. So, I'm going to tell you something about me to lay your fears to rest. I don't judge your situation, because I'm on the same boat as you. I too have lost all my family and have been left well-off. It certainly isn't a defining characteristic of mine, as I'm sure it's not one of yours. The money, I mean. The loss, well, that unquestionably does defy us to an extent, does it not?

He wasn't expecting that. He froze for a moment, then tilted his head and observed me like I was a rare bird. I was about to speak, when he did.

"We're more similar than I anticipated."

"It does seem so, Mr. Snow."

"Can I ask you two questions? And would you be so kind as to answer them as candidly as possible?"

That was oddly specific, but I didn't see the harm. If he was going to accept the job, which seemed like he was, he had every right to ask as many questions as he wanted. Actually, if he didn't ask anything I wouldn't feel comfortable hiring him. At least, he was taking this seriously.

"Feel free, but you should know that I'm always very honest and straight-forward. I try my best not to lie, so you don't have to worry about that."

He nodded. I think he had already realized that about me.

"What do you value most?"

That was a weird question, but I replied with the first thing that popped into my head.

"Loyalty."

He nodded again, more slowly. Mostly to himself, I thought.

"What do you hate the most?"

"Bullies." That came out without any conscious thought.

He gave me a penetrating stare and I realized that my answers to these questions were crucially important to him. I could also see that what I said had pleased him and that I had risen in his estimation. That told me he held similar values as mine. That he prized loyalty and didn't suffer bullies. We were indeed more similar than both of us had anticipated. That boded well. My decision was made, I'd give Jon a chance. I'd hire him in a trial-basis for now.

"Is that it, Mr. Snow?"

"Actually, I have one more question."

"Fire away."

"We talked about my training and about your wish to grow this business, so this might be presumptuous of me but if things work out, and I'm not looking for a timeline right now, would you consider adding me as a partner?

"If things work out, that's a strong possibility. But, that will take time. The business needs to grow first, our professional relationship has to work and you'll have to take a PI course and the pass the exam. I might first make you an associate, but if you earn it I'd have no problem having a partner. Which brings up a question for you."

"How so?"

"Let's say I do everything we talked about. I train you, I invest my time and energy in you. You learn the business and become a PI. What's stopping you from walking away from my agency to open up your own?"

"Nothing. Except for the fact that I too value loyalty. You're taking a chance on me and are willing to train me. I'll hopefully help you grow this business. Why would I betray you? Why would I leave? Unless our work situation deteriorated, I'd have no reason to want to change something that was working. And if our professional relationship sours or I'm unhappy with anything, I'll tell you, as I hope you'd tell me, and we can try to work it out. If it isn't fixable, then it's better if I leave anyway."

That was quite logical. I like how rational and practical Jon seemed to be. I valued those qualities, because I also possessed them and used those most often.

"Fair enough, Mr. Snow. If you still want the job, you're hired. I'd be hiring you on a trial basis, so we'll revisit this in a month. Can you accept those terms?"

"Yes. Should we shake on it?"

I smiled, got up and extended my hand. He also got up and we shook. He had huge hands and a firm grip. He smiled back and then we both sat back down.

"I'd prefer if you called me Jon, Ms. Targaryen."

"That's perfectly fine, Jon. Please, call me Daennerys."

"When do you want me to start, Daennerys?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

"No, it's fine. What time should I be here?"

"Nine. That's when I usually arrive. I'll give you the spare set of keys from the last assistant so you can let yourself in. I should also give you a tour of the office and show you somethings before you go, that is, if you're free right now."

"I am. Please, lead the way."

A/N: So? What are your thoughts on this chapter, specifically their interaction? Please, let me know! Thanks in advance.


	5. Chapter 5 - A Conversation: Part 1

**CHAPTER 5 - A CONVERSATION: PART 1**

**"****Good teams become great ones when the members trust each other enough to surrender the 'me' for the 'we'." - Phil Jackson**

**"****Every woman that finally figured out her worth, has picked up her suitcases of pride and boarded a flight to freedom, which landed in the valley of change." - Shannon L. Alder**

**"I have found that it is necessary to let things go; simply because they are heavy" - Anonymous**

_A/N: In this chapter you will read about an event/day that both Dany and Jon refer as "the incident" or "that day" that happened about a month after Jon started to work for Dany. Don't feel confused. "The incident" will be a flashback chapter I'll post in the future. For now enjoy the suspense and try to guess what happend in the review section? It should be fun, I hope!_

**TWO MONTHS LATER:**

After a couple of months of Jon and I working together, and especially since "the incident", as I liked to called it, had happened, we had gotten into a good groove. We got along great and Jon was an invaluable help so far. We had gotten into a comfortable routine when we weren't out working cases.

Since hiring Jon I had been spending a lot more time in the office. When I was working alone, I did try to work regular hours and go to the office from 9am to 5pm. But, that didn't usually happen. I worked a lot from home and kept the hours I wanted, it was a great advantage of being my own boss and one of the many reasons being a PI and opening my own agency had such an appeal to me.

However, when I hired Jon all changed. First, because I wanted to establish a routine for him and see if he could do a 9 to 5 job. Second, it was important for me to be there with him most of the time, since I was training him in the PI business. I had to be available and sort of take him under my wing. Lastly, the truth was I enjoyed his company immensely, and it was a lot more fun to stay at the office, even after hours, working side by side than by myself at home.

So, that's where I found myself at the moment. I was in my office at 7pm working away at balancing the books. One great advantage of being a lawyer and having had some experience with tax law, was that I did't have to outsource the firm's accounting. I just did it myself. And since my business wasn't big enough yet, it was not a big job, although I confess I didn't particularly enjoy doing it. Maybe one day when Jon and I had grown the business, I'd hire an accountant to do it for me.

I was sitting at my desk, working away at the computer. Jon was lounging, as was his custom lately, on the small sofa in my office, which faced me and my desk and stood against the wall behind the client chairs, with a pile of files around him and on the floor. This had become our routine since not long after "that" day. He was studying all my case files, one by one, methodically. He was taking the job more seriously than I had expected. It was convenient to have me around when he was doing that because he enjoyed asking questions about the cases, very detailed and sometimes very obvious questions. It had annoyed me in the beginning because I knew how brilliant Jon was and I thought he was just trying to kiss my ass or playing dumb to test me. However, it had dawned on me lately that he asked so much for two reasons: he really wanted to learn and understand the business; and he was trying to see how my mind worked and the rationale behind all my decision making. Fair enough and it had my approval, so here we were.

I was concentrating and not paying any attention to anything besides my work on the screen. Jon had been quiet for quite a while. Either he was reading something that interested him or he had dozed off. Or maybe he was trying not to disturb me, since I was doing an important task that he knew I didn't enjoy and that he couldn't help me with. No sooner had my mind wondered about his silent status, when I heard his voice.

"Daenerys, can I ask you something?"

He always did, that was the main reason we stayed late at the office, so he could study and ask me whatever he wanted while I worked on other things. But, he had never asked me permission to ask a question before and he sounded cautious and there was something weird about the tone of his voice. Tentative. The way he phrased it and his tone got my attention. This was new. However, me being me, I just couldn't resist teasing him.

"Sure, Jon. It's actually your job and the reason we have fallen into this routine. Fire away."

I said it archly and without taking my eyes off the screen. I was mostly done and just double checking some figures.

My response was met by silence. It stretched until I had to glance away from my laptop to look at him. He had put the files into neat piles on the floor and was sitting on the couch very formally facing me with a more serious expression on his face than his usual one. That was odd. My curiosity was piqued. I looked into his eyes and saw he was focused completely on me and dead serious. What the hell? I hesitated, trying to decide what to say, but he carried on.

''Actually, it's not a question about the job or anything in the files. It's a personal question. I've been wondering about it for some time, but I never found the right time or the courage to inquire."

Courage? Jon was deeply courageous. What type of question could he want to ask me, even a personal one, which would make him so cautions? I tensed briefly. I couldn't imagine what he wanted to know, how personal it was and why was the topic being so carefully handled, when he had a great sense of humor and we had such great banter together. I forced myself to relax and replied.

"Jon, you can ask me anything you want."

That earned me a joyful smile from him, but it was only there a moment and then gone. I continued, because I wasn't done at all. The smile had distracted me for a bit. Jon looked even more gorgeous when he truly smiled, but that was neither here, nor there. I had to stop noticing his good looks. I assumed I'd get accustomed to it sooner or later, with time and more interaction, so its effect would cease to affect me. They hadn't.

"That being said, it doesn't mean I'll answer it. You can certainly always ask whatever you want about me and the job and I won't lie, but if I don't feel like responding to a personal question, I'll just tell you so."

He nodded his head with agreement and understanding. Jon stared at me for a beat and then spoke.

"That's fair."

"So, what is the question?"

He seemed like he was stalling, but why I had no idea. His behavior was deeply weird and completely different from anything I had seen from him so far. What personal question about me could have this effect on him? He was a very no nonsense guy, blunt and as direct as they came, so why this sudden bizarre, almost shy demeanor?

It troubled me, especially since I had no clue about what he wanted to ask. I wasn't used to being blindsided, especially by Jon.

I kept staring directly at him and schooled my features intro a neutral and slightly curious expression. I kept my mouth shut.

He remained silent for longer than I thought he would and I could feel his tension. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was there.

Finally, after studying my expression for a couple of minutes, he spoke.

"Why did you quit practicing law? From the research I did on you before our first meeting you had incredible potential for a very promising career. You skipped a few years of school and college and were the youngest in your class when graduating Law School. You graduated Summa Cum Laude at the very top of your class. You had fantastic internships and amazing jobs after graduation. Also from what I know of you now, I know you could have had great success and be earning a lot of money, respect and immense status. I know those aren't important to you, or me, but we can't pretend it doesn't have its appeal, especially when we're younger. So, why did you abandon it? What was the deciding factor? You certainly don't owe me an explanation, but I've been wondering for a long time and finally decided it didn't hurt to ask. It's entirely your choice to answer it and if you decide not to, I promise to never ask again. I'll respect your privacy as you have respected mine, which I greatly appreciate, even if I haven't told you this before. And I know it's hypocritical of me to be asking you this when I made it clear my past life in the military is off limits."

He took a deep breath and his gaze bored into mine.

"The truth is I want to understand you better."

Well, I had never heard Jon being so verbose. He sounded nervous, apprehensive and uncomfortable. I had never seen him like that before. It was a new facet of him and it was deeply weird to see him behaving so, well, human and unsure. He was always in complete control of himself, with possibly the exception of the day of the "incident". He was unflappable, so seeing him like that was unsettling and strange, but also in a weird way delightful. I liked getting to know more of Jon and seeing him behave like a normal human being and not a in control deadly soldier or a sarcastic jovial guy. He was quite the contradiction. Complex didn't begin to describe him. This was VERY interesting.

I had a decision to make. I could cut him off and let him know that that was off limits, like he had done with me, which would be fair, but also petty. Or, I could be completely honest. So, as per my usual I decided to go with complete honesty. I hoped that would strengthen our bond and our professional and personal relationship. I would trust him and maybe one day he would trust me enough to tell me more about his past.

Someone had to start the ball rolling, and that would be me. If I refused to give him an answer now there would always be a distance between us, a Chinese Wall on personal matters. Plus, he would never again try to ask me relevant personal questions and would likely keep things superficial. I didn't want that. I like how we were developing our friendship above and beyond our working relationship.

So, after a deep breath I opened the huge can of worms inside my head and decided to pour everything out, into Jon's willing ears.

"So, do you want the short version or the long one?"

Jon pondered me for a few seconds. He was trying to gauge my reaction.

"I don't have anywhere else to be, nor do I want to be anywhere else. It's your choice, since it's your story."

"Okay. I tell you the long version where and when it matters. I have no desire to go through my college years or most of the jobs I had. I'm pretty sure your Intel covered everything relevant, as you so kindly proved with your speech. I'm guessing you're interested in what you couldn't find out or pieces that didn't quite fit and you want me to fill in the blanks. Am I correct in my assumptions?

My tone was acerbic.

Jon smiled slightly.

"As I have been finding out for the last two months, so far you've always been correct in your assumptions".

He sounded proud. I couldn't decide if I found it endearing or condescending. So, I ignored it. He was pissing me off. I couldn't say exactly why, but it was mostly pieces of things he had said. I guess the topic of conversation wasn't helping either. It had been a deep wound, it had healed, but it left a scar. Not so "visible" anymore, but still there. The truth was it would never completely fade.

"Since you did such a thorough job of investigating my life before we even met, you know I was an intern at the DA's office for about 6 months, right before I graduated."

Some of my irritation leaked into my voice. I knew Jon had researched me, he told me so the first time we met. However, I had no idea how deep he had dug. It annoyed me. I shouldn't have been surprised, especially not now that I knew him much better. Jon never did anything half- assed and he had worked in the intelligence department for our Government. Really, what had I expected? That he had just googled me?

I mentally rolled my eyes.

My tone affected him, because he started to flinch, but controlled himself in time. I waved my hand before he could apologize. I needed to get my story out, also I couldn't deny that I wouldn't have done the same thing if I were him. I was a PI for Christ sake. Finding everything out about someone and digging as deep as possible were second nature to me and I enjoyed it.

I nodded, mostly to myself, took another deep breath and started my tale.

"It was a fantastic opportunity. I had always envisioned myself working in Criminal Law, ideally as a Prosecutor. I was idealistic and a Professor who was like a mentor to me got me in the door. I was as happy as a clam. The work was hard, the cases were mostly interesting until the last one. Well, to be honest it was interesting, although I can think of a dozen words or more that are more appropriate."

A bitter laugh came out of my mouth, at first I didn't even realized it had been me that made that sound. It was jaded, resentful and deeply sarcastic. Like an evil witch's laugh from a movie. I didn't remember ever laughing like that. That laugh wasn't me at all.

I had to pause there. And old pain, not physical, but mental reared its ugly head. Physical pain, for me, had always been easy to get over. I was good with mental trauma too, but it required a lot more effort. I shot it down. I was over what had happened, glad even, in a way. It had put me on the path I was on now, the one that was right for me.

Jon looked startled and worried, he had felt the change in me and I was sure my laugh had freaked him out. He leaned forward in his chair and was almost standing before he suddenly and stiffly sat back down. For a crazy moment I had the feeling that he wanted to get up and hug me. I was losing it. The old memories were making me irrational. Jon and I didn't hug. Neither of us were sentimental types, plus we most certainly didn't have that type of relationship.

I had to put my big girl pants on. It had been my choice to tell Jon the story. No way in hell was I going to let old ghosts haunt me here and now.

I really thought I had gotten over the past, apparently not as much as I wanted to or should have. Also, I hadn't talked about it in years. Only Missandei knew and after a while we had reached a tacit agreement never to speak of it again. If I thought it would affect me this way, I would probably have told Jon to fuck off, although in nicer terms, of course.

In for a penny, in for a pound. But, most importantly I wasn't going to let this corpse from my past raise itself like a zombie and chase me. I was stronger than that. I would shoot it between the eyes, burn its body, bury its ashes deep in the woods and carry on. I had buried it once, although apparently not deep enough. I wouldn't make the same mistake again.

I resumed talking. Jon was completely focused on me, quiet as a church mouse. If didn't know better I'd have said he hadn't even blink.

"Anyway, as I was saying the last case I worked on was, to say the least, complicated. A young, filthy rich college guy was accused of raping a 14 year old prostitute and almost beating her to death."

His face floated to the front of my mind and I wanted to gag. Yup, I was resurrecting old ghosts. Her face floated up too. It made me want to cry. I never cried. I had to stop for a minute to compose myself and bury both memories back deep down where they belonged. My breathing had sped up a bit. I worked on emptying my mind and controlling it. When I came back to myself, I saw Jon move. And I mean move. One instant he was sitting down on the couch frozen and looking deeply concerned, the next he had gotten up and sat in the chair facing me and my desk. No man that size should be able to move that fast and that gracefully. It was like I blinked and suddenly he was there.

Before I could say anything or have any type of reaction his hand was covering the back of one of mine. I hadn't realized, but I had put both hands on my desk to steady myself. Damn it all to hell. I hated losing control, especially showing vulnerability or weakness to anyone. If people knew what affected you deeply, they could use it against you, to hurt you and for their own gain. I didn't think Jon would ever do that to me, but the truth was I only knew him for two months. Plus, he was like an onion and I hadn't even peeled his whole first layer yet.

I had more pressing concerns at the moment, though. The second Jon's hand had touched mine, my whole body reacted and came alive. I felt his touch run up from my hand to my arm, past my chest and up my neck until it reached my scalp. Then down my legs until it reached my toes. My whole body was tingling. It was deeply unsettling, especially because some part of me was really enjoying it and wanted him to hold me, fold me into his huge arms and chest and comfort me while telling me everything would be okay. What the ever loving fuck? Get a fucking grip now, Daenerys! Damn it all to hell, this part of my past was fucking up my mind years later, when I had thought it was safe to bring it up. I should have kept my stupid mouth shut.

My first instinct after those bizarre thoughts about Jon floated through my mind, and well, body, was to yank my hand away from his, which I almost did reflexively. However, as I looked up all I could see were Jon's eyes, the concern in them, the tenderness and the guilt. It touched me. He was trying to offer his support, to comfort me, to make me feel better. So, I left my had exactly where it was against my better judgement. But, when his thumb started to caress my hand, I couldn't take it anymore. My world was spinning for several reasons and that was one cause I could remedy. So, very carefully and slowly I removed my hand from under his. I had the impression he didn't want to let go, but in the end he did. I had to get myself back in control and also the situation. I was furiously pondering what to say, when Jon spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Daenerys. I'm so deeply sorry. I shouldn't have pried. It was not my place. But, you have to know I never meant to hurt you and make you relieve any bad memories. I had no idea. You should have told me to fuck off. You don't have to continue, let's forget this and never speak of it again. I don't need to know, especially not at the expense of your pain. It's not worth it, it'll never be worth it. I'm more sorry than any words can adequately express."

I laughed. It felt good. My world was getting back into its axis, finally.

Jon reeled back in shock, looking at me like I had suddenly turned red and grown horns like Hellboy.

I laughed harder.

"Jon, I appreciate the apology, the support, everything you said. However, I'm a grown woman and I make my own decisions. Yes, you asked a question, but I'm the one who chose to answer it. It wasn't on impulse, I considered it. Now, I'll admit I didn't expect to have such a bizarre reaction while telling you the story. Until today I hadn't spoken or really thought about it in years. I figured the issue had been dealt with and wouldn't affect me anymore. That was a miscalculation on my part, not yours. I'm responsible for my choices, so stop the martyr routine because it isn't needed or wanted. It's not your fault. Not one bit. Now, do you want to hear the rest of it, or have you had enough?"

Jon continued gazing at me like I had indeed turned into an alien creature.

"You can't be serious, Daenerys. You mean to tell me you want to continue this conversation? You've had a severe reaction to the topic, a physical one and I saw the pain in your eyes. Why do you want to torture yourself more?"

I smiled.

"It's more of a monologue than a conversation, really. And yes, I want to continue, unless you're the one who can't take it anymore. Is my pain bothering you? Good, it shows you're human and empathetic. And I don't want to torture myself at all, quite the opposite. I want to free myself of these ghosts. If I shut up now, I'm not facing them head on and putting them to rest. I'll have conjured them up for nothing and they will haunt me or try to. The only way to get rid of it, is to purge it. To say it crudely, to vomit it all out. And you'll sit there, take it, and listen until I'm freed. You'll bear witness to my pain, no matter what it makes you feel. After all you asked for this. You just didn't know the price. Everything has a price, Jon, you know that. You just weren't expecting this price tag. Well, tough luck. You opened the door, now let me walk through it. Can you do all that?"

I wasn't trying to be mean but I had meant every word. I had lost control of my emotions, had felt vulnerable and weak, two of the things I hated most in the world. So, I might have been a little more blunt than I should have. However, I also didn't want Jon feeling guilty and punishing himself. Nor did I want him treating me from here on out as a damsel in distress. It really wasn't his fault, it had been MY choice. Jon respected bluntness and strength, so I gave him both in my reply. That would put him back to rights, if not right this second, later when he would have time to ponder this conversation. I was helping us both.

Jon considered what I had said to him for a couple of minutes. I pondered his silence and facial expressions right back. Our eyes were locked. Mine issued a challenge: Will you listen? His, I had no idea. I wasn't at my best and he was doing his hardest to hide his true emotions from me. That was fine. I knew I would emerge the winner of this staring contest. The funny thing was, I hadn't even gotten to the worst part. Not even close. So far, this was almost a happy story, if you forgot the rape of a minor by a scumbag. But that was only the prologue. And quite a short one at that. There was so much more to come. More pain, more misery, more crime and even death. No, not a happy story at all. A tragedy.

A twisted side of me was dying to know how Jon would react to it all. Oh well, I'd soon find out.

_A/N: I have the second part of this chapter written and is my favorite chapter so far. Should I post it today or tomorrow? You guys prefer daily updates or updates as I write them? I have a few chapters already written, but once I post them all I'll need some time to write more, so the updates will come slower. You choose and let me know in the comments!_


	6. Chapter 6 - A Conversation: Part 2

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER TALKS ABOUT AND DEALS WITH RAPE, IF THIS IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU, PLEASE DON'T READ IT. (AND NO, IT'S NOT WHAT OR WHO YOU THINK). NOTHING EXPLICIT, JUST TALK.**

PS: I'm not sure anyone noticed or would noticed but I merged Chapters 1 and 2 together, they're now the whole first chapter of this story (no changes to the text though). I did it because I think it makes for a stronger first chapter and more likely to engage new readers, so they continue reading the story.

**CHAPTER 6 - A CONVERSATION: PART 2**

As I had predicted, Jon was the first to break eye contact with me. He looked away from me and I had this extremely childish, but thankfully fleeting desire to say: "I won".

I was internally beating myself up for that ridiculous thought, which proved I was still off kilter, when Jon's voice interrupted me.

"Yes."

He was back to staring straight into my eyes and I could see pure determination there and some resignation too.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll listen to anything you want or need to say. I'll sit here for however long and take anything you feel like throwing my way. I'll just add that your pain does bother me deeply and as a result causes me pain. But, you're right. I asked and I know that any pain I feel can't ever be compared to yours. So, it's not your problem and you shouldn't have to worry about that. I'm here for you. Now and always. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. So, purge away."

"Thank you, Jon."

I really meant it. Jon was such a good man.

Instinctively, I extended my right hand and put it over his left one, an identical gesture to the one he had done to me before. It surprised me. I hadn't consciously meant to do it. I hadn't realized how much I wanted someone, well not anyone, but him, to listen to my story. I had to get it all out, the sooner the better, as I was metaphorically choking on it.

Jon looked down at my hand on his and then back at me. He seemed deeply surprised. I was sure I had an identical expression on my face. I patted his hand, to reiterate my thanks, and pulled my arm back.

I cleared my throat, as if that action alone would be able to clear all the raw emotions and weird vibes floating around my office.

I tried, but I didn't quite manage, to keep my tone light and carefree.

"So, where in the story did I stop?"

Jon hesitated, he looked pained, but he answered me anyway.

"You were mentioning a case about the rape of a minor."

"Irri."

She wasn't just a statistic, she was a person. A teenager. A very dear and real one to me.

"What?"

"Her name was Irri. She was 14 years old. Her family was originally from Mexico City. She was a first generation Mexican-American. Her parents were illegal immigrants."

And complete assholes, but I refrained from adding that bit, in the end they had paid the highest price for their shortcomings, not that they had cared. It was not my place to judge, but I couldn't help it, right or wrong, I blamed them partially for what had happened.

I sounded almost detached now. I guess I had to be. The memories, especially those directly connected to her were too painful.

I fell silent. I was remembering Irri. Her smile, her tough girl act in the beginning, her innocence, and her kindness even after all she had been through. There was so much to her, like there is to all of us. I had grown to love her, maybe as a little sister, maybe as a grown daughter, I wasn't sure. I had felt protective and maternal towards her. But, I was too young then. I didn't know exactly what role she fit for me at that time, nonetheless she had gained a piece of my heart and soul.

I was brought out of my musings by Jon's voice. I was glad. It hurt so much to think about her.

"You said she was a prostitute, how does a 14 year old child end up in that situation?"

I shot Jon a deeply incredulous and jaded look.

"Don't be naive, Jon. There are thousands, millions even, of children like her in that position. You know that. If you're asking me how did Irri ended up in that hellish life, that I can tell you. I spent a LOT of time with her during her case. I was 21 years old, she was 14, and I was the closest in age to her in the DA's office. We bonded. Probably a lot more than what was considered professional. Not that I cared. I don't know if it was because of my age, my demeanor or because I made a point to get close to her and try to help her. I was young, idealistic and not jaded by the job like the rest of them… yet. I made this case, her, personal. We became friends of a sort. I considered her a younger sister. I think she saw me as a role model. She was also in need of a maternal figured, I believe I partially filled that role as well. So, after some time and my persistence, I got her whole life story. It was not pretty."

"I figured that, Daenerys. No child that ends up prostituting herself has a nice story."

"Exactly. I know that, you know that. But, it's different when you're sitting across from a child, one you have bonded with, and hear all the horrors she went through in her short life. You can't help but take it personally. It's very different from reading a sob story in the newspaper about a stranger. I'm not diminishing the pain and horrors of all the other children in the same position, but it was my first time looking directly in the eyes of someone I came to love and hearing her tell me things that no human being, much less a 14 year old girl, should have had to go through."

"You loved her?"

Jon sounded surprised.

"Of course I did. I came to love her. It wasn't like I loved her the first time we met. However, I spend months with her preparing for her case and even more "unofficial" time out of my own free time. I was bonding with her, getting her to trust me, listening to all her pain and secrets, her hopes, her dreams and her life story. I was trying to help her. I was letting her cry on my shoulder, hugging her to me and patting her hair to try and comfort her. I was listening to her scream and rage on when she needed to vent. As I already said we really bonded. The question shouldn't be if I loved her, it should be how could I not have loved her?"

Jon was looking at me very strangely. There was such an intensity in his gaze that it almost made me lower my eyes. I didn't though. I wasn't sure if he was taking my measure or silently judging me, or both. So, I held his gaze and let him. He had said he wanted to understand me better, well he would by the end of the story, one way or another.

I carried on.

"Irri had grown up in a very religious household. Her parents were fanatical in their Catholicism. Their whole lives revolved around the Church. Hers too, of course. She went to Bible study three times a week, at the least. This might sound strange at first, but it was there that her life started to go downhill. When she was 12, a 19 year old guy took over the group. He was considered a paragon of virtue. An example all the younger kids should follow. After all, he could quote basically anything from the Bible, didn't miss one service and said and made all the right noises. He was polite, dressed neatly and always talked about the importance of abstinence, of saving oneself for marriage, of being pure of mind and body. Not long after he took the leadership role, he started to focus on Irri. Paying special attention to her. Her parents were delighted, the idiots. He offered to come to their house and have private sessions with her. He told them that she was a good girl, but she needed more guidance before it was too late and she strayed from the path of Jesus Christ, their Lord and one true savior. So, they welcomed him into their home, they witnessed him discussing the Bible and everything they considered right and good with her. Her mother cooked for him, he ate dinner with them and always left with plenty of Tupperware containers full of food. They were just so grateful for his help and attention. They felt honored. Honored, Jon!"

My voice had gotten louder and louder, and full of derision, while I spoke. I had to pause. An old rage was bubbling up to the surface. I wanted to scream. I had to get back in control of myself.

"Breathe, Daenerys. Just take a deep breath and let it out slowly."

I had momentarily forgotten about Jon. My rage had blinded me, quite literally. I did what he said, it did help a little, and I looked at him. He looked pissed. Jon was no dummy. He knew where this part of the story was going.

I nodded at him in thanks and kept going.

"From the look on your face, you know where all this is leading up to. It doesn't take a genius to get it, most people would see the abundance of red flags, but fanatics become blind to anything that doesn't fit into their limited worldview, unfortunately. Anyway, I'll summarize it for you. Not long after Irri turned 13, her parents left her alone with him at her house to run some errands. By that time, their "sessions" had moved from the living room to her bedroom. He claimed it would be best to have some privacy, because that way she could be completely honest with him about her sins without fearing her parent's reaction. He had gained their complete trust, like a good predator does. Sadly, hers too. But, she was a child. A fucking 13 year old deeply religious and sheltered child."

I had to stop to take a couple of deep breaths and tell myself my rage was a useless emotion. It served no purpose here. I couldn't change what had happened to her. None of it. Although, I knew I would have given a couple of body parts to be able to change her story.

"So, that day when they were left alone in her bedroom, he raped her in her own bed. I'll spare you the details. Sometimes, I wish I didn't know them. After, he pulled up his pants, adjusted his clothes and left her there violated, betrayed and shell-shocked on her bed. She said she didn't remember how long she lay there, but sometime later she got up, saw the blood on her legs and on her sheets, she was a virgin, of course. Then she had the most natural reaction of all, one I think every raped woman has, she went to take a shower. A scalding one and she rubbed herself almost raw to get his smell and sweat off her and the feeling of being unclean. When her parents got home a couple of hours later, she told them what had happened. They didn't believe her. Not even when she showed her mother her bloody sheets. They were enraged with her. They called her a lying demon child and said she was trying to destroy a good man's reputation. They also added that if she had rutted with some boy in her bed, she's was a whore and dead to them, even if she hadn't made it worse by trying to blame this almost "holy" man for her own sins. They said she was trash and as such she didn't belong in their house and was no daughter of theirs. To finish it off, they told her to get the hell out with only the clothes she was wearing, before her father beat the devil out of her. She was a demonic lying whore and they didn't want any of her corruption to taint them or their home."

And my rage finally exploded. I grabbed the glass of water off my desk and threw it with every bit of strength I had into the wall to my right. Glass shattered and fell to the floor, water rolled down the wall. I barely registered it. It was like I was outside my body floating up near the ceiling and looking down at myself. There was a red haze covering my view. I did it so fast, almost casually, like I had just simply snapped my fingers. I had lost control, utterly and completely. I felt ashamed. Not because I threw the glass, not because I was raging, but because I had lost my self-control.

I finally had the courage to look at Jon. He looked shocked. He had never seen me lose control before. His eyes bored into mine, the red covering my vision was beginning to fade, but I wasn't all there yet.

"I'll clean it up." Jon said.

I waved my hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Thanks, but don't bother. I made the mess, I'll clean it. Plus, I might feel the need to break something else before this story is over. Did any of the glass get on you? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry about losing my temper."

Jon raised his eyebrows.

"Please don't apologize for losing your temper. You had a very good reason for it and I don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide anything from me. And no, none of the glass reached me, so don't worry. Even if it did, I wouldn't blame you. I didn't know her, but after hearing what you just told me I have a very strong urge to punch something."

I spread both my arms.

"Go ahead."

I looked around studying what would be the best option for him to punch.

"You're serious, aren't you? You looking around to find something for me to punch?

"Yeah, I figured the couch is the best option. If you punch a wall or a door, it'll hurt your hand and we'll have to get it fixed. I think the couch can take a punch even from you and survive, plus it won't hurt your hand, at least not badly."

He laughed like what I had just said was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

"What?" I asked a bit annoyed.

"You're not like any other woman I know. Correction, you're not like anyone I know."

What the hell did he mean by that?

"Ummm, thank you?" I said sarcastically.

"Don't worry, it was a compliment. You just surprise me sometimes, well a lot of times, and I'm not used to that. Which brings me to another point, I never saw you lose your temper like that before. Not even "that" day, as you like to call it. You were completely fine the whole time, the picture of composure."

"What are you trying to get at? That I should have freaked out "that" day? Or that I shouldn't have lost my composure just now? I should point out that you are the one that lost your self-control after the "incident".

"Neither. And I love how you call it the "incident", like it was no big deal. Also, I never denied losing my cool "that" day. I just find it curious that you seemed unfazed."

"I wasn't unfazed, Jon. But, in the end it wasn't that big of a deal."

Jon started to sputter, but I cut him off before he managed to say anything.

"Ok, it was kind of a big deal, but it had a happy ending. I've seen and gone through worst. You're actually listening to something much worse right now. Plus, what do you want me to call "that" day? The Battle of Hogwarts? The Battle for Winterfell? Helm's Deep? The Opening of the Hellmouth? What? Something pompous and dreary? Let's not be overly dramatic here. It was not even a battle and nothing major. Plus, words have power, Jon, and I refuse to put that much of my focus or remembrance into it. I'm not giving it any power over me. It's in the past. It's over and done with. You spent 10 years of your life as a soldier in a war, "that" should have been nothing to you. You're the one that should have been unfazed. You weren't even the target. I still don't get why you're the one that's always making such a big issue out of it."

"I guess you wouldn't." Jon mumbled.

"What? You want to explain that to me?"

"No."

Jon said it firmly and with finality. Fine by me. I had other things on my mind at the moment anyway.

"So, are you going to punch the couch or not?"

"No, thanks."

"Do you want a glass to throw?"

Jon laughed.

"I'm quite fine, Daenerys. Are you?"

"Well, the overwhelming rage has passed for now, so I guess I'm as good as I can be while discussing Irri."

He nodded his head in understanding.

"Do you want to stop? Or, at least take a break?"

"No, I need to get it all out. I'll feel better when I'm done."

"Okay, it's your call. Anytime you want to stop, take a break or break something, just do it."

"Oh, don't worry. I will."

Jon nodded and I continued the story.

"After Irri was kicked out of her house by her parents, with only the clothes on her back, she had nowhere to go. The word had spread and she was shunned by her community. So, what was she suppose to do? She was a 13 year old homeless child. To make a long story short, she ended up in a bad part of town. She was a pretty girl, desperate and helpless, so other types of predators came after her. She got a pimp and started her life of turning tricks. Was it hellish and traumatising? Sure it was. But, at least she had some protection from her pimp, some camaraderie with other prostitutes, money to buy food and a few other necessities and a place to sleep. She fell into that routine, numbed herself and about a year later another fucking pedophile found her. This one didn't hide behind religion, he hid behind his family name and money. He portrayed himself as a wealthy, nice, polite, intelligent and athletic college guy. A good old boy."

Jon looked pissed off.

"Couch or a glass?"

"What?"

"You'd rather punch the couch or throw a glass?"

He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

"Neither, but this story just gets worse and worse. The unfairness of it all, all these fucking pedophiles, it makes me want to use every skill I have to hunt them all down."

"I feel exactly the same way. And I have to warn you, brace yourself, because if it gets much worse."

Jon looked nauseated. I completely related to how he was feeling.

"Do you want me to stop?"

He schooled his features into a neutral expression and looked at me.

"No, not unless you want to or need to."

"I prefer to get it all out, if you don't mind."

"I told you I would listen to anything and everything you wanted to say. I'm a man of my word."

"I never doubted that, Jon. But, if you want a break from all this misery I wouldn't hold it against you. Plus, you wouldn't be breaking any promises."

"I'm fine. Please, carry on."

"As you wish."

I took a steadying breath and continued.

"One night she was picked up by this John. He was young, handsome, polite, preppy and was driving this fancy car. He told her he was lonely because his girlfriend had broken up with him. He offered her double her normal fee. She thought it was her lucky night. It turned out to be quite the contrary. He drove them into the woods, asked her to get out of the car saying he wanted to take a walk first and talk, since it was his first time paying for sex. She believed him, of course. Once they were deep in the woods and in the dark he began beating her bloody and proceeded to rape her. I won't get into the details, because I wish I could bleach them off my brain. He choked her and beat her. However, Irri was a smart girl. She tried to fight him off for a while, but she soon realized it wouldn't help. So, she played dead. After he had his way with her and his psychotic rage was spent, he left her for dead. But, he wasn't as smart as he thought himself to be, because he didn't check. She had seen his car, his license plate, his face, everything. He meant to kill her. He was a budding serial killer. Irri waited until the sun rose and walked up, well dragged herself, to the main road, bloody and beaten and she flagged down a car. For once in her life a nice guy came to her rescue. He was horrified by her state and her young age. He took her to the nearest hospital. They did a rape kit and treated her wounds. She was in bad shape and was in the hospital for over a month. Child Protective Services were called, and she was adamant she wanted to press charges. She was fucking brave. She remembered every detail about his car, even the license plate. It was something the older prostitutes had taught her to do. So, he was easily found. And that's how the case came to the DA's office where I was working as an intern."

I had to stop for a bit. Reliving all this misery and pain wasn't easy. I was about to reach for my glass to drink some water, when I realized I had broken it in my little fit of rage. So, I got up and walked towards the mini fridge and got a bottle of water. I was about to get another glass, but thought better off it. It was safer with just the plastic bottle. I opened it, walked back to my chair and gulped down half its content. Jon's eyes had tracked my every move and he looked concerned.

"Are you okay, Daenerys?"

"I'm as okay as I can be. I just needed a little break."

"No wonder why."

"It's too horrifying. The mind can't only take so much, before you want to scream, break something or kill someone."

"Yes. I feel very homicidal right about now."

"I'm sure you do. It's quite normal. I'd find it strange if you didn't. But, don't worry. I'm almost done with Irri's story."

"Why do I get the feeling that it doesn't have a happy ending?"

"Because you're a smart man."

Jon looked murderous, indeed. I didn't think he was doing it consciously, but he had started to emanate this aura of menace. His posture shifted, his facial expression was almost alien. It was his inner predator coming out, his inner feral wolf. I had seen it once in all it's deadly glory. It was the scariest thing I had ever seen, but I hadn't felt scared at all. First, it was Jon and I trusted him even then. Second, I found it incredibly hot and arousing. It was so fucked up and twisted that I even considered calling a fucking therapist. But, I think I had figured it out, or at least tried justifying it to myself to make me feel better and not like a sick woman who was attracted to killers. It was a hindbrain thing. Jon was an Apex Predator, he was at the very top of the food chain. The tip of the pyramid. I figured the most primitive part of my brain was a smart bitch and thought to herself: he's the best hunter, he can protect me and our offspring will be strong and survive. Very Darwin of her. So, her strongest thought was: mate with him now. I couldn't blame her.

However, I certainly could blame me. I wasn't a cave woman. I lived in the twenty first century, plus I didn't need him to protect me and I didn't want to have children. But, it made no difference. I still got hot and bothered when he did that. It was happening now. So, I put a stop to it.

"Hey there, killer. Easy now. There's nothing you can do, unless you have a time machine you haven't told me about. Would you mind tucking your fangs and claws back in? You're scaring the children."

And just like that regular Jon was back, like I had just hallucinated the whole thing. It was incredible how fast he could turn into a predator and equally as fast go back to being a regular, albeit extremely hot, guy. It made it even scarier, or hotter, if you were me.

"I'm sorry." He said abashed.

"Sorry about what?"

He sighed.

"You know what I mean."

"Oh, you mean the whole blink I'm a predator, blink I'm just Jon thing?"

He nodded.

"No apology needed, I really don't mind. I just called you back, because it seemed you were doing it unconsciously. There's no threat, so no need for it."

Jon stared at me, he seemed shocked. I couldn't imagine why.

"You really aren't afraid of me, even when I do that, are you?"

"Nope, not at all. I'm sorry if that hurts your male ego or something, but it really doesn't faze me. It's just a part of you that I rarely get to see, but it's still you. I trust you. If you want to let it out more often, but are afraid of my reaction, don't be. I can't speak for others though, so rein it in around our clients. Other than that, just be yourself. Or your badass self. Whichever you want." I shrugged.

He wouldn't stop staring at me. He had a strange expression on his face that I couldn't identify.

"God, Daenerys. You're…"

He cut himself off, and I almost finished for him: …fucked up in the head.

"What?"

He shook his head.

"Never mind. So, what happened next?"

"Well, her case went to trial. The psychopath showed up with four lawyers, really expensive ones, all wearing three thousand dollars suits. He looked like a perfectly normal 22 year old college guy. He was handsome, well I guess that's a matter of taste, because even if I didn't know he was a pedophile and a budding serial killer, I wouldn't have been attracted to him. Anyway, he went to a great school, he got excellent grades, he was popular, he had dated age appropriate women without any issues, he played lacrosse, dressed like a preppy nerd, was always polite, went to Church and even volunteered at a soup kitchen. Oh, and his parents were millionaires and very well connected, politically speaking."

"He was a smart psychopath, I'll give him that. That fucking scumbag. Anyway, in the other corner we had Irri, a 14 year old prostitute, with no character witnesses, basically asking the Court to take her at her word. The asshole had used a condom, so the rape kit wasn't helpful. There wasn't any physical evidence either, which I find suspicious until this day and nobody will convince me otherwise."

Jon interrupted me.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Jon. NO physical evidence? I accept no semen, since he used a rubber. But, he beat her bloody and she had fought back in the beginning. And there wasn't any of his hair on her? No skin cells under her nails? Nothing at all with his DNA on her? Don't you find that strange? Because I certainly do. My theory is that his family and/or his lawyers bribed the lab technicians to make it all disappear."

"You have a very good point."

"I know, sadly I was never able to prove it. So, as I said it's just a theory. Anyway, so we had this good old boy and then Irri. No evidence, besides her word. The scales were tipped heavily in his favor. Irri was so fucking brave, though. She took the stand and told the whole story, the truth. Every single detail of the nightmare she had gone through. In the cross examination they utterly destroyed her. His lawyers claimed she was mentally ill, that she was just looking to extort money from his family, that it had been her pimp that had done that to her, that they had been in cahoots to explore a respectable and wealthy gentleman. They said she had done it before. It was beyond sickening. Finally, they called her parents and her first rapist to the stand. They confirmed she had a habit of lying and accusing good men of rape, that she had always been a lying whore and had no morals or character. I wanted to kill them all. I really did. And they would have deserve it. Meanwhile, he had plenty of character witnesses singing his many praises. He took the stand and butter would have melted in his mouth. He even had the nerve to say how sorry he felt for her and once he had proven his innocence, he was going to help her get out of that life. I never felt such rage and disgust before while listening to him that day on the stand. If I had been armed I'd have shot him between the eyes and gone to prison with a smile on my face. Things were looking bleak for Irri."

I had to stop. I felt like throwing up. So, I just breathed in and out, in and out…

"Jesus, Daenerys. That's the most horrifying thing I've ever heard."

"Oh, but it gets worse."

Jon looked like someone had just shot his puppy.

"She never had a fucking chance. The jury found him not guilty and that was it. The fucking asshole walked out of the Courthouse with his head held high. A free man, or better yet, a free subhuman creature. And Irri once again was let down, betrayed, humiliated and basically told she was worthless. Her whole life had been misery. It was heartbreaking."

I took a few deep breaths and gulped down the rest of my water. I didn't know if I had in me to keep going anymore, when Jon spoke.

"What happened to her?"

Damn it all to hell. This was it. The hardest part of the story to tell. Not the end of it by far, but the part that had hurt and still hurt the most. It would hurt forever. But I had made my peace with that.

"She hung herself with a bedsheet in a shower stall at the group home Child Protective Services had put her in."

My voice was completely flat and devoid of all emotion, but inside my heart was breaking all over again. I had a crazy thought that I could hear it. Crack, it went. I remembered her smile, her beautiful face, how brave she was, the times she cried on my lap, how she had once hugged me and thanked me while telling me I was the first person who had cared about her ever since her parents had kicked her out. I remembered what they did to her in that witness stand, how they broke her beyond repair. She had survived so much pain, abuse and hardship, but those smug motherfuckers managed to suck her dry, even of her will to live, just with their twisted words, lies and accusations. Even her goddamn parents had helped them do that to her. She was just a child, but they didn't care. Money was their God. I hoped they would all burn in hell when their time came. Not very Christian of me, but I was never a good Catholic girl anyway. It's hard to be very religious when you can think for yourself and have seen some of the shit I have seen.

It was just too much. All my energy was focused on doing everything I could to keep my composure. I wasn't going to cry. I never cried. I couldn't cry. Not in front of anyone. Especially not in front of Jon. I was his boss and more importantly I didn't want him to see me as weak. I couldn't bear the thought of him treating me like I was made of glass. I had worked too hard to become who I was now and to be seen a certain way. Image is power, no matter the lies they tell you that say otherwise.

Unfortunately, sometimes, and in my case, in extremely rare times, your pain and your emotions get the best of you. So, as much as I had tried to use every tactic I knew, thrown up every mental wall, shield and defense I had, I lost the fight with myself. I just wasn't strong enough, but I would work hard on rectifying that, that I would. At least I wasn't sobbing or waling. I should have been grateful for that, at least. Hell would freeze over before I did that in front of anyone, especially Jon. But as much as I tried to contain it, I couldn't. So, big, fat, hot, silent tears started to roll down from my eyes. I was powerless over them. It was like a faucet had been opened and gotten stuck in that position. I couldn't make them stop; I couldn't even slow them down. They just rolled down my cheeks, past my jaw and fell onto the papers on my desk.

Splat. Splat. Splat…

They didn't actually make any sound that I could physically hear, but I heard them in my head nonetheless. In my mind they were so loud, the sound of my shame and heartbreak, although absolute silence reigned in my office. They were the physical manifestation of my pain and there was nothing I could do to hide it.

I had shocked Jon into silence with the end of Irri's story and especially with my reaction. I was deeply embarrassed and wanted to run and hide, but I would never do that. Ever. The crying was already bad enough. So, I just pretended I wasn't crying - nothing to see here folks - and finally raised my eyes defiantly to look at Jon.

He was blurry because of my tears, but I still could read his expression well enough. I had expected pity. It wasn't there at all. He was looking at me with compassion and such tenderness that it made me want to cry even more. What the fuck was wrong with me? The honest answer at the moment was: many, many things.

"Daenerys?"

Splat. Splat. Splat…

"Yeah?"

My voice sounded totally normal. Besides the tears that wouldn't stop coming, it was like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. I refused to wipe them away. It would just call more attention to them. I decided denial wasn't just a river in Egypt and to fully embrace it. It was very out of character for me, but so were the last few minutes. This was a side of me that not many people saw. Actually, just Missandei. And now, Jon.

It seemed he didn't know what to say or do. He had managed to call my name, but now he had no idea how to proceed. If the crack in my heart had sealed itself already, I would have laughed and laughed. Why is it that most men have trouble with crying women? Jon was a deadly, highly skilled killer and an intelligence officer in our military for 10 years. He had seen horrors I couldn't even imagine, and I had a great imagination, especially regarding horrors, but he was completely helpless in the face of my tears.

It was deeply ironic that something so tragic, had caused such comical behavior.

"Daenerys, stand up, please."

Huh?

"Why?"

What the fuck was he on about? I was still too raw and the tears were still coming, so I admit I was not even close to my best. But why should I stand? Did he think standing up made tears go away?

"Just indulge me, please."

His tone of voice had changed completely after he had called my name tentatively and stalled there. Although, he was being polite and saying please, there was a subtle command underneath it all. I was puzzled. At least he wasn't treating me like I was made of porcelain. I guess that's why I obeyed. Even though taking orders from anyone went against everything I believed.

I stood up like an idiot, still looking at him. He stood up too. His gaze was intense and there were a lot of emotions there. I was so off my game I wasn't even able to read any of them. We stood face to face. Me, behind my desk with those fucking non-stop tears, and he across the desk from me. Broad, strong and fierce, occupying more space than anyone had a right to, and he was gorgeous as usual. Was I ever going to get use to his physical presence and looks? I sincerely hoped so.

I knew there was something deeply fucked up about me right then and there. Why was I thinking about Jon's hotness at a time like this? It was twisted. Was it my brain trying to focus on something mundane and agreeable, so I could escape the pain? Can eye candy be considered pain reliever? If so, I should parade Jon through every hospital and hospice, it'd be a great public service.

While I was having those completely irrational thoughts, Jon moved. He walked around my desk and stopped a couple of feet away from me. I turned slowly and instinctively towards him. I was still out of it and wondering what the hell was going on. Why was Jon so close to me and just staring into my eyes? Maybe some of my IQ points were mixed into my tears that were still coming and I was losing them, because I felt like a complete idiot. I was confused about Jon's actions and had no idea what to do or say about them. His eyes bore into mine, and I had no idea what he was seeing there, nor the mental capacity at that moment to read his.

Finally, I couldn't take the deeply weird stalemate anymore.

"What?"

"Give me a hug." Jon said calmly and firmly.

WHAT?

"What?" I couldn't keep the shock out of my voice.

"Just give me a hug, Daenerys. It might make you feel better."

"I don't need a hug. I'm fine." My mental state and traitorous tears said otherwise.

"You're crying."

"No, I'm not. I don't cry." I said indignantly and with conviction.

It was childish of me, but for some reason I refused to acknowledge them to him. I wasn't fooling him, nor me, but my pride just wouldn't let me be honest right then. It was completely out of character, again. I needed to get a fucking grip on myself and fast. Otherwise I'd soon be on a nice and white padded cell in an Institution mumbling to myself and getting regular shots of Haldol.

"Okay. I apologize for my mistake and retract my previous statement. I'll point out instead that you seem to be leaking."

He smiled slightly and tried to keep the sarcasm out of what he said. I heard it anyway.

I laughed a little and crossed my arms over my chest. A classic defensive body posture.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Jon."

He smiled and nodded.

"Okay. I'm still waiting for a hug, though."

He opened his arms. It was tempting. But, I just couldn't do it.

I shook my head from side to side.

"I told you already, I'm fine. I don't need a hug. Plus, we don't hug. We have never hugged before."

Jon rolled his eyes.

"What if I'm the one that needs the hug, Daenerys? Have you considered that? And you're right, we have never hugged before, but there's a first time for everything. Also, I didn't know about this non-hugging rule. Is it in my contract? I don't remember reading it. It's in the firm's by-laws? Now, I'm feeling a little upset that you, as my boss, never mentioned said rule. It seems like a serious dereliction of duty on your part."

Now, I was the one rolling my eyes.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer. You're just being a smart ass."

"I don't think so, I think I'm raising valid questions. What's wrong, Daenerys? Are you afraid of hugging me?"

Now his smile was wide and he had arched an eyebrow.

Son of a bitch, he knew me well. He knew I didn't back out from dares and hated being told I was afraid of anything.

"Yes, Jon. I'm shaking in my boots. My fragile female mind and constitution is afraid of hugging your very manly self and having a case of the vapors. What if I faint? Do you have some smelling salts in your pockets?"

"Daenerys?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and hug me."

It sounded like an order. I was shocked by him telling me to shut up and by his very commanding tone. Well, after spending 10 years of his life in the armed forces, Jon knew how to issue orders. He was so good at it that my feet moved without my conscious command and suddenly Jon and I were hugging. My head was buried in his chest with his strong arms wrapped around me. He felt even bigger when we were so closely intertwined. I felt tiny, safe, comforted and cared for. I cried harder, although I still didn't make a sound and my face was hidden in his chest. But, I knew he could feel it. My tears were soaking his shirt. He tightened his anaconda arms even more tightly around me. I have no idea how long we stayed like that. My awareness only came back when my tears had finally run dry and I felt one of his hands rubbing small circles on my back. How long had he been doing that? I hadn't even noticed.

I felt lighter. The crying had helped, but hugging Jon had been the best medicine of all. I hadn't realized how starved I had been for human contact. I wasn't a very touchy-feely person, at least not since my family had died, and even before only with them. I didn't think Jon was a touchy-feely person either, actually until today I would have sworn he wasn't, but maybe I was wrong. I knew Missandei and I had hugged before, but for the life of me I couldn't remember the last time it had happened. A long time ago, I was sure of it. I shook hands with people all the time, but I hadn't had any close human contact in years. Was that why it had felt so heavenly, even under the circumstances, or was it because it was Jon? That last thought was incredibly troubling to me.

Once I was back to pretty much my regular self, I started to feel uncomfortable. It had felt amazing to be hugged and comforted by Jon, and I couldn't deny that a part of me was still enjoying it and never wanted to let go. That thought and the feeling that he now had the upper hand somehow in our relationship, made me disengage, although I knew I was being petty. He was a good guy, a great guy. He had shown me so much kindness, something not many people had, when I most needed it. I didn't really believe he had done it with any type of agenda, but old habits and deeply ingrained paranoia die hard. I had to treat it for exactly what it was: an act of kindness and friendship. I just couldn't make a habit of hugging Jon. It was unprofessional and the effect it had on me wasn't something I could indulge in. It was better to avoid the temptation. Nothing good could come off it.

So, I slowly unburied my face from his chest, slackened my arms that had been hugging his back for dear life and pulled them back to my side. He reacted to my actions. First, he hugged me tighter to him, very briefly, and then lowered his arms. We were now standing chest to chest, but not hugging anymore. I wanted to look up into his eyes, but I was embarrassed and afraid of what I'd see in his expression, so I chickened out. I was about to step away when he did something that surprised the hell out of me. He kissed the top of my head. It was a quick peck, but it was such a tender gesture, I almost hugged him again. It reminded me of something he had done the day of the "incident", although under entirely different circumstances.

I guess I had been wrong about him and he was a touchy-feely type of person. Who would have guessed?

Finally, I stepped away from him and walked back towards my desk and chair. I needed to sit down. I felt him moving back to the chair he had been sitting in too. I still couldn't look directly at him, but I had to say something, so I did.

"Thank you, Jon."

It was heartfelt.

"Anytime, little lady. I'll even start carrying some smelling salts for next time."

I laughed and finally looked at him. He was grinning.

"Why, thank you ever so much, kind gentleman, but I don't remember fainting. Did I?"

"You didn't, m'lady. I was very impressed."

I laughed harder. And we grinned at each other.

However, something was still bothering me. I hadn't shown that much vulnerability to anyone in years. It left me feeling deeply exposed and weak. I didn't want Jon to see me that way. I couldn't work with him anymore if what had just happened had changed how he viewed me, especially if he started to treat me with kid's gloves. I wasn't made of glass and I couldn't bear if he thought I was. What had just happened was the exception to the rule and I had no plans or worries about a repeat performance from me.

"Jon?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not a delicate flower." I said it in my most serious tone.

"You? A delicate flower?"

And then he was laughing like that was the funniest thought ever. Deep belly laughs. I waited it out. He was chortling by the end. Once his mirth was done with, he looked directly into my eyes.

"Daenerys, that was a great joke. You, a delicate flower. You're Wolverine's Adamantium Claws."

My relief was so great, I didn't even laugh at his comment.

"I'm glad we cleared that up." I said seriously.

Jon looked puzzled.

"Was there ever any confusion? I wasn't aware."

I smiled.

"Well, the whole leaking thing could have caused some misunderstanding."

Jon rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes, your pain for the loss of someone you loved, in such a horrific way, makes you a delicate flower. I just thought it made you human, like the rest of us. If you had no reaction, you'd have scared the hell out of me. You're scary enough as it is."

"I'm scary? You're the highly trained silent killing machine. I think you win by a very large margin on the scary scale. Hypothetical question here, do you have any doubts that if we ever went against each other, you'd easily win?"

"Yes, I have doubts. I might be stronger physically, but you're mentally stronger than me. Of course, in a one on one physical fight I'd have the advantage. But, you'd never confront me that way, you're too smart for that. So, yeah, let's just agree we're both scary in our own ways and have our own strengths. Also, I didn't know this was a competition."

I was rendered mute by his words. He seemed completely honest and I was deeply flattered, although I disagreed.

"I never said it was a competition, it's not. Hence, the use of the word hypothetical. Plus, we're a team, aren't we?"

"We are. You have no idea how glad I am of that fact."

"Me too."

We smiled at each other.

"Daenerys, are you okay?"

"I am now. You're a big reason why, so although I already said it, thank you."

"It was my pleasure. As we just agreed, we're a team, so I'm here whenever you need me. And I'm sure you'll be there for me when I need you."

"Of course, I will." I said with conviction.

Jon smiled.

"I never doubted that for a minute."

"I'm glad. And don't worry I'll get some smelling salts too, so when you're the one needing a hug, you won't faint, at least not for long, from all my womanly charms and power."

He laughed and we lapse into a comfortable silence. It was a great respite from all the talking and all the pain of the last hour.

Jon got up and started to clean the mess I made when I broke the glass. I protested that I should be the one doing it, since it was my mess. He replied that he was my assistant and it was his job to clean up my messes. It was all very playful and in the end he won the "argument" because I was mentally and physically drained. I knew he knew that and it was the reason he let me sit and relax while he cleaned everything up. I was lucky to have him in my life, both professionally and personally.

After he was done and I was also done printing new copies of the papers that had gotten ruined by my tears, Jon sat back down in the chair across from me.

"Are you okay"

"Jon, if you ask me one more time if I'm okay I'm going to shoot you."

He laughed and held both his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender.

"See, scary."

"You're not as funny as you think you are, you know."

"Oh, I don't know. You seem to laugh at my jokes quite frequently."

"That's just to make you feel better about yourself. I'm a benevolent boss. I like my employees to have self-esteem."

Jon dramatically put his hand to his chest.

"You wound me, boss."

"Yeah, yeah, take your complaints to HR then."

"I'm afraid you'll shoot me if I do. I've seen you in action, I'm not willing to take that chance."

"I just might, to shut you up at the very least."

We smiled at each other. Jon looked away for a moment and when he looked back at me his expression had changed. It was hesitant and very serious. What now?

"Can I ask one last question?"

From the look in his eyes and his tone, I knew it had something to do with Irri. He was afraid of causing me more pain, but I was fine for the moment. The worst had been told, felt and dealt with, the story wasn't over yet anyway, so I didn't have any problems with him asking me whatever he wanted.

"Sure. Go ahead."

"So, that's why you decided to abandon your law career? I can understand why that would make someone want to quit."

After he uttered his question, he suddenly looked puzzled, I knew why. I had worked as a lawyer after I graduated for about two years after Irri's death. He was probably doing the math in his head and realizing it didn't add up.

I laughed.

"No, Jon. Although, I was disgusted with the trial lawyers, disillusioned about our Justice System, and devastated by Irri's suicide, that was not the reason. Well, certainly not the only or even the main one. But, I won't deny it was the first seed that was planted in my mind that I wasn't in the right path. What happened next was certainly the nail in the coffin though."

Jon looked utterly shocked, like I had just slapped him.

"There's more?"

He sounded incredulous.

The poor man, he had NO idea. And some instinct told me he would like this story even less than the first. Me, I was partial to the second one myself.

I gave him the first genuine smile I had been able to manage since our whole conversation about my past had started. Though, I must add that there was a dangerous edge to it.

"Of course there is. From what you know of me so far, did you really think I'd let Irri's suicide stand?"

"You were only 21 years old!"

"But, I was still me. Granted, I've changed in the last 12 years, we all do, but I was still the same person. The core of what makes me ME was exactly the same. I think time and maturity only enhances our personalities, very, very rarely they change us in any significant way. Wouldn't you agree?"

He nodded in a sort of absently minded way.

Then he looked torn between worry and curiosity.

"What did you do?"

There was a fatalistic tone to his question and he rubbed his face with both hands. I laughed again.

"If you really want to know, I'll tell you. Do you want to hear the sanitized version or the gory one?"

Jon shook his head from side to side, like he just couldn't believe what he was hearing. And sighed quite loudly.

"I'll take the gory one for a thousand, Alex."

I laughed harder. It was moments like this that made me appreciate Jon even more each new day.

"Gory it is, then."

A/N: So, what did you guys think of this chapter? It's my own favorite so far. What about their banter? Did you like it? And the development of their relationship? And what do you think Daenerys did after Irri's death? I'm still finishing some touches on the next chapter and I can change somethings depending on your thoughts and suggestions. I don't mind criticism at all, I do value all and any feedback though. The more comments I get the faster the new chapter will be up! I'm going to be bratty and won't post the next chapter until I get some feedback/comments, please. I think this chapter deserves it, don't you?

Thanks in advance!

Also, I have already posted 6 chapters of this story and only got 2 reviews so far. If people have no interest in the this story, I'll stop posting it.

PS: I post under the same name on AO3, if you prefer to read the story there.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Ruse

**CHAPTER 7 – THE RUSE**

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**"****I always did something I was a little not ready to do. I think that's how you grow. When there's that moment of, 'Wow, I'm not really sure I can do this,' and you push through those moments, that's when you have a breakthrough."**

**\- By Marissa Mayer**

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**"****All the games now are important. It's us just coming together as a team, fighting a little bit harder, turning up the concentration a little bit more. It's getting close to that time."**

**\- By Glenn Murray**

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**"****Love is blind, but friendship closes its eyes."**

**\- By Friedrich Nietzsche**

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**"****You are my person."**

**\- Cristina Yang to Meredith Grey, Grey's Anatomy**

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**"****If I murdered someone, she's the person I'd call to help me drag the corpse across the floor."**

**\- Cristina Yang to Meredith Grey, Grey's Anatomy**

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**"****Sometimes it's not the people who change, it's the mask that falls off."**

**\- By Haruki Murakami**

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**"****Being single is much wiser than being in a fake relationship."**

**\- By Unknown**

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**A/N: I'm doing a timeline jump in this chapter. I want to start showing Dany and Jon working cases together and get their romance truly on the road. **

**You'll "see"/read the rest of their conversation about Dany's past in a flashback chapter, like "the incident" one that will also be a flashback. I'll be posting both in the future.**

**This story is not completely linear because it didn't come to me that way and I enjoy the use of flashbacks. If you guys prefer a completely linear story, let me know and I'll start posting the chapters in their right timeline. **

**Lastly, what do you guys think Dany did to avenge Irri?**

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**ABOUT ONE MONTH LATER FROM THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER **

**(JON HAS BEEN WORKING FOR DANY FOR ABOUT 3 MONTHS NOW)**

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Time was going by smoothly after I hired Jon. We got along great; we shared the same thoughts on our work ethics and on our client's issues.

We got along fabulously. Due to this, it seemed like we had been working together for years, even though it had only been a few months. I came to trust Jon more than I trusted anyone; and in a very short period of time.

Yes, I have had trust issues in the past, especially with men. It is one of the reasons I am still single.

However our current case was starting to bog me down both mentally and physically. I was exasperated beyond belief. My frustration was driving me crazy. The more I thought about the case and how best to resolve it, the more I realized there was only one logical and practical solution. I had wanted to avoid it all together, find another answer and store it in the back of my mind for another day, but I couldn't keep going on like this, my head was rhetorically spinning in circles over the it. Enough was enough. Plus, in general, I was never one to dillydally when I should act.

The problem with the case was that what had seemed like an easy job had become more problematic than what I expected when I first took it.

Mrs. Olenna Tyrell was the client. Sansa had recommended her to our agency, one of the many perks of having Jon as an assistant. Sansa knew people. She was very well connected and she was ecstatic that not only had Jon found a job he liked, but more importantly he had finally come back home for good.

Oleanna was in her sixties, married, exceptionally wealthy and one of those notorious socialites that were charitably called 'Ladies Who Lunch'. She was not the one causing me issues. She was actually a very pleasant woman, albeit extremely sarcastic, and so far a great client. However, her husband was slick. She had hired me to catch her spouse in flagrante delicto.

She had, by an innocent but fortuitous mistake, overheard on her landline extension her husband talking to his secretary; who now appeared to clearly be his mistress. She had known for years that he had been double-timing her, but not since that fateful phone call had she been completely certain about whom the other woman was. She needed me to get irrefutable proof so that she could have her prenup voided, divorce his ass and get half of what was rightfully hers. I had no misgivings about that. He was a cheater and she had helped him build his extensive empire over their 40 year marriage, she was owed her half.

The problem was that even though we knew about his affair, it had been hard to pinpoint exactly where and how it was happening. Mr. Tyrell was a man who followed a strict routine. He went to work and came back home every day at the same time. He had lunch every day with his colleagues. He spent his weekends with his wife and family. The only exception to his rather tedious schedule was his weekly Thursdays' night poker game at this private club. It started at 7pm and he was always home before midnight, come hell or high water.

If I didn't trust what Olenna had heard, I'd have chalked her up to being a paranoid wife. But, I could tell she was being truthful to us. It was one of my talents. Jon had also agreed, which I appreciated since I had come to trust him and his opinions enormously.

We had been following Mr. Tyrell for over two weeks now. We knew everything we needed to know about him and his patterns. The only free time he had to conduct his affair was during his poker games. At first that had appeared unlikely. Poker games are not places renowned for their sexual activity. However, his secretary had always accompanied him and that was the only time they were alone outside of their office. Unless they had only been sexually active in their workplace, game night was the only other opportunity. My suspicions had been proven right. The poker game was not a card game at all and the club, well, it was a different and specialized kind of establishment altogether. After some reconnaissance, Jon and I had found out the truth about the building and about what went on in there.

Which brought me to my current predicament and irritation. It might be foolish of me, but I was not at all pacified with my newly developed plan.

Since this new plan was the only way I saw to solve this case quickly and efficiently, my decision was made. It had me pacing back and forth in my office, but with the plan in mind, reluctantly though I might be about it, I had stopped wearing out the floor. I took a deep calming breath and went to sit at my desk.

Now, I just needed to confer with Jon. We had been operating effectively together for a few months now and things had been going extremely well. He had been working incredibly hard and was doing even better than I had expected. He was exceptionally suited to being a PI and his work as my assistant had been perfect. He never complained, even about the more mundane tasks and always deferred to me. Jon was competent in the extreme, brilliant and professional. The truth was that I was extraordinarily lucky to have him.

I valued his judgement immensely and he had become an integral part of my work life. In a very short period of time he had become an important part of my personal life as well. We had a similar sense of humor, the same values, as well as many other important and not so important things in common and we were both closeted nerds. I now considered him a very dear friend.

Nevertheless, I was a bit apprehensive about the plan I had created in my head and how Jon would react to it. I was sure he wouldn't mind or even consider it an issue, but it made me somewhat uncomfortable and I wasn't even sure why. Liar, my mind told me. I ignored the thought and pushed it aside. It wasn't that big of a deal, just another part of the job. It'd be fine and we'd have the case closed in a couple of days. I was probably just being silly.

That sobered me up quickly. I was better than that. It was a minor thing, really. But, it'd be the first time I'd use that particular ruse to get results. And I would need Jon's help. So, I dialed his extension at our front desk.

"Hi Daenerys, you need something?"

"Hey. Could you come into my office, please. We need to talk."

"Sure, I'd be right there."

It was kind of ridiculous calling him on the phone when he was just sitting outside my closed office door, but I didn't think it was very professional to be yelling his name anytime I needed him to come into my lair so we could talk privately.

It took him a few minutes, which I found strange since he had been right outside. However, as soon as he entered I understood why it had taken him so long. He was carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, which I welcomed whole heartily. He was indeed a fantastic assistant. He handed me my favorite mug deferentially, inclined his head in my direction, and muttered straight-faced:

"My Queen."

I gave him my usual reply, completely mimicking his attitude.

"Lord Commander."

That was one of our inside jokes. My favorite mug was black and had a dragon with a crown on it. His usual cup was black and had an image of The Witcher on it. We had had this routine since his first day working for me. It was our usual greeting every morning. He always made the coffee and we performed our little skit to our mutual amusement. It was fun. And although it was the middle of the afternoon now, I still appreciated the fresh coffee and the banter.

He gave me a tentative smile. He settled into the chair in front of my desk. Lounging would be a more accurate term for how he placed himself. Jon usually sat like he was a king on display on a throne enthralling his subjects. Relaxed, slightly bored and sexy as hell. I didn't customarily mind it, quite the contrary, but today I was finding it difficult to ignore his magnetic appeal. I really didn't need that type of distraction right now.

"Is everything okay, Daenerys? You know, most conversations that start with 'we need to talk' don't usually end well for the recipient of said line."

He gifted me with a disarming smile. Although, I was used to it by now, it never got old. He smiled and joked often in my presence, which I knew was a special privilege given only to Sansa and now me. It warmed my heart and also a few other body parts that I was not ready or willing to admit to, if ever. I compartmentalized the shit out of it. As lovely as he was, inside and out, he was my employee. And a very good one at that. Great help was hard to find, while stunning guys were a dime a dozen.

One of the many reasons I appreciated having Jon around was that he seemed to find humor in almost any situation and he was always trying to make me feel better when I needed it. I knew he could sense I was a little tense. We had this uncanny ability to read each other exceptionally well, more so than we did with other people. And reading people well was something both of us excelled at.

I couldn't help but smile at him.

"While I always enjoy your humor, Jon. I'm serious and before you make another joke, you should know you have nothing to worry about. I just want to discuss Olenna's case. I've come to a decision on how to finally close it."

"Great. Let's hear it."

"Well, since we realized his poker game is not a game at all, at least not the type of game we thought of; but instead a swinger's club that he frequents with his paramour, I see only one sure way to close the case as quickly as possible."

"I can't wait to hear it. However, you don't have to worry about closing the case so rapidly. Mrs. Tyrell is loaded, she can afford a lot more billable hours and she never gave us a time frame."

"That doesn't matter. We have been working for her for over two weeks now, which should have been more than enough time to get the proof she needs. Plus, I don't care if she's the richest woman on earth; I refuse to charge my clients more than strictly necessary."

Jon smiled.

"One of the many reasons I respect and admire the hell out of you. Your honesty is commendable."

I didn't know how to respond to the compliment. Jon would sometimes praise me and it always left me vaguely uncomfortable and unsure on how to react. So, I wisely chose to ignore it.

"You want to hear my plan? I'll actually need your help to accomplish it."

"Of course. Although, you know I'll help you with whatever it is. Besides being my job, I hope you know you can always count on me. Both professionally and personally."

I was touched and I felt the same way towards him. We were more than only co-workers; we were close friends now. Or at least, that's how I viewed him. I wasn't sure what his thoughts were on the matter.

"I'd feel much better if you heard it all before you agreed to help. It's only fair."

"By all means. I'm all ears."

Damn, I was stalling. I was anxious about his reaction. I needed to cut my nervousness out immediately.

"Okay. But, I need you to hear me out fully before you make any comments."

He nodded his agreement.

"So, we know that his affair, or should I say affairs, occur inside the swinger's club. I've been thinking a lot about it and I believe the simplest solution is for us to act like a swinging couple to get into the club inconspicuously and get our proof. We'd need to convincingly pretend to be a couple. It's a ruse I have never used before."

Jon regarded me carefully before replying.

"I had already considered that."

WHAT?

I shouldn't have been surprised. Jon was exceedingly bright. If I had come to that deduction, it made total sense that he had too. Then, why hadn't he proposed it?

"Why didn't you suggest it? You know I always value your input."

"I knew you'd reach the same conclusion. And you did. Plus, I wanted it to be your idea."

"Why?"

Jon sighed and looked at me intently.

"Because I wanted you to be relaxed about this plan. Nevertheless, even though you have reached the same conclusion, you're uncomfortable about it. Why is that?"

That was a loaded question. I had no idea how to explain it. I wasn't even sure what exactly was bothering me. No, that wasn't the whole truth and I was self-aware enough to know one of the main reasons why. I was afraid of playing the role of Jon's woman, of pretending to be a couple; which was unusual. I had played many ruses in the course of my career and I was pretty sure if it were anybody else besides Jon, I wouldn't feel this way. I was not immune to Jon's many charms. I just chose to ignore them and shove them in the very back of my mind. In a heavily locked room, with many padlocks, chains and possibly three large dragons keeping guard.

This gave me pause.

The silence stretched. Jon kept watching me.

"Is the thought of having to play my lover that distressing to you?"

"NO!... Of course not." I lied.

That was so unlike me to throw out a white lie like that. But, what could I have said? And yet I still wasn't done.

"And wait, lover?" My brain had seized on that particular endearment. Heavens know why I fixated on that.

"Daenerys, it's a swinger's club. It fits. Would you rather I called you sweetie or honey? That'd hardly go along with our ruse."

"I'm not calling you lover." It came out more forcefully than I intended.

Jon laughed.

"Is the term lover so unpalatable to you?"

"No!... It's just so… Well, explicit and intimate."

"That's the idea. If you don't feel comfortable calling me lover, what term would you'd like to use?"

"Babe." And without thought that just came out of my mouth. Fuck!

Jon struggled with it for a minute. At first it seemed like he was going to protest the word. I wasn't sure any woman had ever called him babe. He was too much of a man for that term of endearment. He was just too much. He was too good looking, manly, striking and imposing; just to name a few of his attributes. Then, he finally decided on a reply that seemed to please him very much.

"That's fine with me, if you don't mind me calling you lover. You calling me babe actually suits you. It's sweet and endearing."

I was not used to being called sweet or endearing. It was jarring. I pressed on anyway.

"That brings me to my next point. I'll need you to take the lead on this one. I think it'd be more convincing if I play the reluctant new lover trying to please her man and you can act like the experienced partner who's introducing me to this new world. I'll play coy and you can be as cocky as you like."

"You, COY?"

He gave out an overtly amused laugh; it was one of his many laughs that I enjoyed so much.

"Well, I'd be acting."

"Clearly." He deadpanned.

"So, are we in agreement?"

"Sure. It would be worth it just to see you playing bashful and it'll be my first time taking point on a case. Or at least on a ruse to solve a case. I'm glad you have that much trust in me. So, when are we doing this?"

"Tonight, if you don't mind. It's Thursday. If we don't do this today we'll have to wait another week. Best to have it done and over with as soon as possible."

"That's fine. Although, I'd have to go home and change before we leave. What does one wear to a swinger's club?" He wondered aloud.

His question seemed more to himself than to me, but to my utter shame I had a case of verbal vomit and some words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. A brain filter malfunction.

"Black leather pants, combat boots and a black wife-beater."

I blushed. Jon looked surprised and very gratified. He smiled joyously.

"Have you been thinking about me in that outfit for long?" He half joked, half seriously inquired.

The truth was I had. A lot more often then I cared to admit ever since the day he walked into my office door all in black and looking for a job. I lied yet again; I really hoped telling white lies were not a new habit I was forming. And I hated most of all lying to Jon.

"No, it'll just compliment my outfit and I think it'll make us fit in well."

"You already picked out your outfit? You have given this plenty of

thought."

I had. I always did. I took my cases very seriously.

"Of course I have. You know me. I'm a planner. Additionally, I already have this dress that I never had the guts to wear. It's time to put it to good use. And I'm sure both of our garments will get us in the door."

"I can't wait to see it." He winked at me.

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Let's save the flirting for tonight, when it'll be needed. You're already having too much fun and we haven't even started the subterfuge yet."

I might have read him wrong, which was unlikely, but he looked a bit hurt. I didn't understand why. And I wasn't going to touch that with a ten foot pole right now. I continued to talk.

"I need to get out of here. I want to work some of my excess energy off, so I'll be good to go later. I'll also need to change. Should we meet at the club around 7:30pm, that way we know he'll already be there? I don't fancy spending more time there than absolutely necessary."

"You're anxious about it. I don't get it. You're always so unflappable. Also, let me pick you up. There's no need to take both of our cars and it'll seem more natural if we arrive together."

He had a point.

"That makes sense. Pick me up at 7:15 at my place, okay?"

"Sure thing, boss."

He rarely called me boss, unless he was joking. I guessed he was still trying to ease my anxiety. Jon was great like that.

"Go home yourself. There's not much else you can do here for now. Just forward the calls to the office to your mobile, in case a client calls while we're out."

"Will do. Just get out of here and try to relax. I'll see you later."

I got up from my desk, walked passed Jon with the intention of leaving. I was stopped by his hand on my arm. It was gentle but firm. I froze instantly. Jon had never touched me like that before and we were too close. It was unexpectedly intimate. His hand had easily encircled my entire upper arm. He was holding me very carefully, almost tenderly. I looked up at him.

"You've never been to a swinger's club, have you?" He probed.

"No. Why, have you?"

"No. I don't share." That was said with a fierce intensity.

He carried on.

"Is this the reason why you're tense?"

"One of them. Mostly I'm worried about the patrons. I don't want anyone, especially a man, touching me. I'm not looking forward to being pawed at and I'm afraid of how I'd react. Probably with violence and that will blow our cover."

It wasn't until I had spilled my guts to Jon, that I realized how true that was. It'd be much more difficult to act as a swinger around the other regulars, than it'd be to pretend to be in a relationship with Jon. The latter was hardly a hardship. He was appealing enough, and not only physically, though that was what most women usually focused on.

Jon pulled me closer. We were only inches apart now. He looked intently into my eyes for a couple of seconds and said something so ferociously and in such a low and cold voice; one which I had never heard come out of his mouth before. The only thing I could do was stare into his mesmerizing grey eyes. That tone of voice was chilling, especially since it held no bravado. It was a statement of fact, delivered in a fierce and even tone which made him sound deadly serious and dangerous.

"Nobody will touch you on my watch. That I promise you."

He sounded like a medieval knight making a sacred vow. Maybe he was. I completely believed him. He had my utter faith. He looked a bit longer into my eyes, seemed to see something he liked, and freed my arm. I moved a little further from him. I needed a little space. That had been too intense.

"Thank you, Jon. I know I can trust you" I said solemnly. Not satisfied, I felt an urge to keep speaking; to give him something in return.

"That's one of the many reasons you're my person." I finished and kept walking out. I was almost out of the door when I was stopped by his voice.

He had whispered, but I somehow had heard him anyway.

"I am?" He asked sounding astonished.

At that, I turned back to look at him. He seemed perplexed. I saw many emotions pass through his eyes, but they were there and gone so fast I couldn't decipher them quickly enough.

"Yes. It's actually another nerdy quirk of mine. It's a frequently repeated quote from a favorite TV Show of mine. Grey's Anatomy. Have you ever watched it?

He gave me a look. Right, it was a "girlie" series. How silly of me to think he was a fan. I mentally rolled my eyes and before I could say anything else, he spoke.

"No, I haven't. Even so I can glean the meaning. Your person can be a guy or a girl, no matter your own gender. It's not romantic. It's the name you put down as your emergency contact. The person you call if you kill someone and need help disposing the body. A best friend of sorts, but even more than that. It's someone you trust above all others."

Well, for someone who had never actually watched the show he had gotten the meaning dead on. It was kind of self-explanatory, especially to someone as insightful as Jon.

"Yes." I said simply.

"I thought that would be Missandei for you."

I pondered that carefully.

"She was and still is in some ways. But, Missandei and I are very different people with distinctive goals and lifestyles. I trust her immensely and completely, but she doesn't get me. Not entirely. She wants me to be more like her. She wants the best for me, but she has always wanted me to change, to settle down, get a regular job, marry, have kids. She wishes for me to have the life she has, because she is very happy. She has trouble realizing I would never be happy in that type of life. You SEE me and accept for who I am. You appreciate me exactly as I am, or so it seems to me. You get me."

"I do." He replied sincerely and with great conviction.

I nodded and tried to leave once more, only to be stopped again by his words.

"You're my person too, Daenerys." He sounded stunned, by his own confession, and realization, or both; I didn't dare venture a guess.

"I was sure that was Sansa." It made total sense to me. They were family.

"What you said about Missandei, also applies to Sansa. She's my cousin. You're my person."

I was very moved but had no idea what to say, so I took the cowards way out and made my escape. After all, I had a night at a swinger's club with Jon to prepare for.

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A/N: So, did you enjoy this chapter? What are your thoughts on it? And what will happen when they finally put their ruse to good use?

Also, I'd dearly appreciate if the readers of this story could leave some feedback/reviews. The truth is my muse works faster and better when I get some feedback, positive or negative. Please, review. I have no idea how this story is being viewed and I need to know if I'm going in the right direction. If this story is not being well received or even just ignored, I might lose interested in writing it. I'm sorry to say. Seven chapter so far and only 2 reviews, maybe this story just sucks. Help a fic writer out? Please? So, leave a review...


	8. Chapter 8 - NOTICE

NOTICE:

Since this story seems to be getting no interest here, I'm currently leaving it up as it is. I won't be updating any more chapters here. I won't stop writing it, so this story will continue to be updated only on AO3 under my same name here.

My Eric/Sookie stories will continue to be updated here as well as on AO3.

Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9 - IMPORTANT!

Hi!

I just realized, after reading a review that not all of you know what AO3 is.

AO3 is another fanfiction site, called Archive of Our Own.

THIS STORY CONTINUES THERE. AND I'LL CONTINUE TO UPDATE THIS STORY ONLY THERE FOR NOW!

ALL MY STORIES ARE POSTED THERE!

The ones here and also other ones written for the GOT - Game of Thrones Fandom. My ship there being Jonerys! I just posted a new GOT fic there today. I have 3 GOT fics so far.

Just google AO3 (or archive of our own) and VampAngel79 and you will find me easily there. I hope to see anyone who's interested there! Please, say hi there to me if you want!

Thanks for reading!


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